ADVENTURES 


1^ 


SWAZILAND 


ii 


'^ 


%\     -^ 


/ 


hi 


OWEN  ROWE  O'NEIL 


//^ 


€ 


f 


A^-^ 


/^     ^     /P2/y^    /2^^^.<r-^  O^C^^ 


,  C     -^-^       C/- <^^^^>^x>i^ , 


(aA<^Uc    -ii^     y^£-*-c.<^/i^l^^  J 


/    " 


r^ 


-z^    cJo-<.v_^      (^     <^    v^i^L<jcv^.^^  y 


^^ 


a.^_^ 


<^"^^ 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/adventuresinswazOOoneiiala 


ADVENTURES 
IN   SWAZILAND 


V  * 


SWAZI  MOTHER  CARRYING  HER  BABE 
Like  most  of  the  South  African  natives,  the  Swazis  carry  all  burdens  on  their  heads,  the 
women  invariably  being  the  beasts  of  burden.  Babies  are  the  only  things  the  women  ever 
carry  on  their  backs,  this  being  because  they  keep  their  children  with  them  while  doing  the 
housework.  The  splendid  stature  and  erect  carriage  of  Swari  women  is  directly  due  to  carrying 
all  weights  on  their  heads 


ADVENTURES 
IN  SWAZILAND 

THE  STORY  OF  A  SOUTH  AFRICAN  BOER 


BY 


OWEN  ROWE  O'NEIL 


WITH   MANY  IIXUSTEATIONS 
F&OM   PHOTOGEAPHS 


V»>iy^f«»«im 


NEW  YORK 

THE  CENTURY  CO. 

1921 


Copyright,  1921,  by 
The  Centuky  Ck). 


Printed  in  U.  S.  A. 


TO  MY  FATHER 

COUNSELOR,   FARMER,  AND  WARRIOR 
THIS  HUMBLE  RECORD  IS  DEDICATED 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

PAoa 

How  THE  O'Neils  came  to  the  Transvaal — Boers  with 
Irish  names — Oom  Paul's  refusal  to  buy  Delagoa  Bay — 
The  Boers  break  for  freedom — Their  bloody  battles 
with  the  savage  tribes — The  Great  Trek — Dingaanzulu's 
treachery — The  Dingaan  Day  celebration      ....  8 

CHAPTER  II 

Rietvlei,  the  "Valley  of  Reeds" — The  O'Neil  home- 
stead— Pioneer  hardships — The  war  against  Maleuw, 
"The  Lion" — "Slim  Gert"  O'Neil  breaks  the  power  of 
THE  Makateese  King — Jafta,  King  of  the  Mapors — My 
boyhood  and  "Jass" — Sibijaan,  "The  Skunk,"  becomes  my 
pal — My  first  trousers  nearly  cost  me  an  eye — Our  toy 

FACTORY    AND    MIMIC    BATTLES OoM    TuYS   GrOBLER   TELLS   OF 

Swaziland  and  King  Buno,  "The  Terrible"     ....        12 

CHAPTER  III 

My  desire  to  visit  King  Buno — How  I  won  the  trip  on 
a  bet — A  Boer  race  meet — "Black  Hand  Tom,"  the  hope 
of  Rietvlei — Klaas's  ride  to  save  his  skin — Father  gives 
permission  for  my  visit — Belfast  celebrates  the  Boer 
victory SI 

CHAPTER  IV 

I  leave  for  my  first  visit  to  Swaziland — Mother  warns 
ME  ABOUT  Oom  Tuys — Why  the  Boers  paid  tribute  to  Kino 
Buno — Queen  Labotsibeni,  the  brains  of  Swaziland — 
BuNo's  visit  to  Oom  Paul  Kruger — Our  Reception  in 
Swaziland — Ezulweni,  the  "Valley  of  Heaven" — Bung's 

RIFLE SiBIJAAN    AND    I    EXPLORE    BY    NIGHT 44 

CHAPTER  V 
Sheba's  Breasts  and  the  Place  of  Execution — Zombode 

AND  THE  ROYAL  KRAAL  OF  QuEEN  LaBOTSIBENI CoMMON   AND 

vii 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

ROYAL  GROUND \Ve  REACH  KiNG  BuNo's  KRAAL  AT  LeBOMBO 

— Gin  for  the  King — BuNo,  the  regal  savage — I  present 

A  RIFLE  TO  THE   KiNG LoMWAZI   TAKES  ME   TO   LaBOTSIBENI 

The  old  Queen  is  worried  over  Tuys'  activities — The 
shooting-match  with  the  King — Tuys  and  I  manage  to 

MISS  A  FEW  human  TARGETS 57 

CHAPTER  VI 
Tuys  orders  me  to  remain  in  camp  during  the  celebra- 
tion— I  visit  the  royal  kraal — Feasting,  dancing,  and 
combats  to  the  death — Butchery  of  young  women — Buno 
and  Tuys  wrestle  for  gold — How  Tuys  became  rich — A 
"legal  execution"  in  Swaziland — The  unfaithful  wife 
expiates  her  sin — How  Tuys  shoots — Father  gathers  in- 
formation by  mental  suggestion 73 

CHAPTER  VII 

I  visit  Swaziland  again — Buno's  illness — An  appeai, 
FROM  the  King — The  race  against  death — Umzulek  meets 
us — The  dying  King — Buno  makes  Tuys  guardian  of  his 
people — The  last  royal  salute  of  the  impis — The  death- 
dealing  puff-adder — Buno  dies  like  a  true  savage  king 

TZANEEN,      THE      ROYAL      WIDOW,      SUSPECTS      MURDER ThE 

queens    MEET TuYS   ESCAPES    THE    FUNERAL    SACRIFICE        .        .  92 

CHAPTER  VIII 

The    ROYAL    FUNERAL ThE    "tHUNDER   OF    THE    SHIELDS*' 

Not  AFRAID  TO  DIE — The  witch-doctor's   bloody  work 

What  Labotsibeni  wanted — The  burial  of  the  indunas — 
Rain-making  and  the  "rain  stone" — Buno's  burial  in  the 
caves — Witch-doctors  prevent  our  entering  the  caves — 
Labotsibeni   sends   for   gin 110 

CHAPTER  IX 
Sibijaan's  sportiveness  almost  costs  his  life — How  Tuys 
became  the  friend  of  Buno — Labotsibeni  endorsed  as 
regent  of  Swaziland — Umzulek  plots  to  seize  the  throne 
— The  Boers  invade  Swaziland — Tuys  dictates  peace  be- 
tween the  Queens — Umzulek  gets  his  lesson    .      .      .      ,      129 

CHAPTER  X 

War  with  England — Siege  of  Belfast — Our  boyish  impi 
attacks  the  British — Ghosts  defeat  us — Jafta's  friend- 
ship— English  troopers  do  the  "sporting  thing" — Umzd- 

viii 


CONTENTS 

PAOB 
LEK      STILL      PLANNING      DEVILTRY DkATH      OF      KlAAS,      OUR 

JOCKEY — Father  sends  me  away  to  get  an  education     .      150 

CHAPTER  XI 

Back  to  Rietvlei  from  Harvard — I  locate  in  Ermelo — 
Tuys  brings  news  that  Sebuza  is  to  be  crowned  King  of 
Swaziland — I   decide   to  make  a   picture   record   of  the 

CORONATION ThE  TREK  TO  ZoMBODE  TO  GET  THE  ROYAL  PER- 
MISSION  SnYMAN    PLAYS    GHOST    AND    ALMOST    GETS    KILLED 

Visit  to  Mbabane,  capital  of  Swaziland 163 

CHAPTER  XII 

I  meet  Labotsibeni  again — Flattering  a  savage  queen 
— Explaining    the    "little    black    magic    box" — Curing 

rheumatism  with  tooth-paste,  vaseline,  and   hair   oil 

Women  as  currency — Gin,  gold,  and   cows  pay  for  the 

PICTURE    rights ThE    "fLu"    STRIKES JeNNIE,    THE    "bLAAU 

APP,"  and  THE  peacocks*  TAILS 188 

CHAPTER  XIII 

I  start  for  New  York — The  religious  atmosphere  on 
shipboard — "Flu"  attacks  the  Javanese — The  mission- 
aries refuse  to  help — Sharks  as  scavengers — The  little 
mother's  end — Evils  of  liquor — Assembling  our  party  in 
New  York — Passage  as  freight — St.  Lucia  and  a  little 
excitement — The  thin  magistrate — Released  on  bail     .      206 

CHAPTER  XIV 
Obstinate   stowaways — Free   Town   and  a  fight — Bay 

RUM    AS    A    beverage SuGDEN    LETS    OFF    SMOKE-BOMBS CapE 

Town,  a  party,  and  some  Anzacs — Oom  Tuys  advises  haste 
— Through  South  Africa — Americans  and  Boers  in 
Ermelo — A  hurried  visit  to  Swaziland  for  information — 
Mystery  over  the  coronation — Royal  gin  for  Labotsi- 
beni— Debeseembie  drinks  and  talks 226 

CHAPTER  XV 

Outfitting  for  Swaziland — Our  cook  becomes  "Gunga 
Din" — LoMWAZi's  messenger — Off  for  Zombode — Rossman 
goes  hunting — Too  much  rain — The  oxen  die  and  are  re- 
placed BY  donkeys — Sneaking  liquor  through  Mbabane 

EZULWENI  mosquitoes  RIVAL  NeW  JeRSEy's We  ARE  UN- 
POPULAR IN  Zombode — Manaan's  damage  suit  and  settle- 
ment      247 

ix 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  XVI 

PAQB 

LaBOTSIBKNI    refuses    to    see     me SUGDEN    AND    MY    MEN 

ESCAPE    ASSASSINATION ^A    FRUITLESS    CONFERENCE We    FLEE 

TO  LeBOMBO OoM  TUYS  TURNS  UP We  CONFER  WITH  QuEEN 

TZANEEN   AND  LoCHEIN FiVE-AND-TEN-CENT-STORE   JEWELRY 

HAS    PERSUASIVE    POWERS SuGDEN    FALLS    ILL We    BUILD    HIS 

COFFIN SeBUZA  returns  FROM  HIS  SANCTIFICATION      .        .        .        268 

CHAPTER  XVII 

L'TuNGA's    "mUTI"    cures    the    sick    WHITE    MAN SeBUZA 

CHOOSES  HIS  WIVES 1  RECEIVE  A  MESSAGE  FROM  HiS  MajESTy's 

High  Commissioner  for  Swaziland — A  flying  trip  to 
Mbabane — The  Government  refuses  to  sanction  Sebuza's 
coronation — How   witch-doctors   smoke   dagga      .      .      .      292 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

Witch-doctors  of  Swaziland — How  they  brought  a 
famine — L'Tunga's  school  of  witch-doctoring — The 
"Poison   Test"   to   settle    ownership — The    professional 

witch-doctor's      equipment L'TUNGA      DECIDES      A      MURDER 

CASE — Some  genuine  cures 310 

CHAPTER  XIX 

Wearisome  delay  in  coronation — War  suggestions  from 
Umzulek — My  plan  to  bluff  Labotsibeni — The  bluff  is 

called A     TICKLISH      SITUATION LabOTSIBENI      REFUSES      TO 

SURRENDER  THE  THRONE OuR  DEMONSTRATION   FAILS NiGHT 

MURDERS   PROVOKE    WAR 331 

CHAPTER  XX 

LeBOMBO    threatened    with    ATTACK TZANEEN    FLIES    TO 

US     FOR     PROTECTION ViCTORY     FOR     SeBUZA LabOTSIBENi's 

mysterious  death lomwazi  spared  for  execution  later 

Funeral  sacrifice  of  the  old  Queen — Queen  Tzaneen  in 

STATE ^We    are    forced    TO    JOIN    THE    ROYAL    IMPI        .        .         .        355 

CHAPTER  XXI 

Our  SANCTIFICATION  IN  EXILE HARDSHIPS  IN  THE  HILLS 

OoM    TuYS    SAVES    LoMWAZl's    LIFE ThE    CELEBRATION LoM- 

WAZI  FORMALLY  SURRENDERS   THE   THRONE We   ARE   INDUCTED 

INTO    THE    ROYAL    IMPI MBABANE    SENDS    FOR    INFORMATION 

We   ESCAPE   THROUGH    PORTUGUESE    TERRITORY   TO   AMERICA       .        371 

X 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Swazi  mother  carrying  her  babe Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

Map  of  Swaziland 32 

Map  showing  section  of  South  Africa  .......  S8 

The  result  of  the  national  sport  . 48 

Interior  of  military  barracks 49 

Princesses  and  maid  taking  a  morning  bath 68 

Young  princesses  amiably  engaged  in  hair-dressing     ...  68 

Swazi  girls 69 

Pudana,  favorite  to  the  old  Queen  Labotsibeni    ....  69 

An  actual  combat  in  which  the  man  on  the  left  was  slain    .      .  76 

A  type  of  dress  worn  by  the  royal  executioner 77 

Lomwazi,  son  and  prime  minister  to  the  old  Queen     ...  77 

Queen  Tzaneen,  mother  of  the  crown  prince 112 

Queen  Tzaneen  with  some  Zulu  princesses 118 

Umzulek,  a  resourceful  and  influential  exile 113 

Swazi  warriors  and  women  dancing 128 

Princesses  of  royal  birth 129 

Queen  Labotsibeni,  mother  of  King  Buno 196 

Lomwazi  and  his  council  of  Indunas,  or  war  chiefs     .      .      .  197 

The  stream  that  divides  the  royal  from  the  common  ground  .  204 

Type  of  Afrikander  cattle 205 

Swazi  women  at  home 205 

On  the  way  to  the  royal  kraal  at  Zombode 256 

The  second  trip  into  Swaziland 256 

xi 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

FICINQ  PAGE 

Mother   feeding   her   baby 257 

Maiden  singing  to  the  Crown  Prince  Sebuza 257 

Dr.  O'Neil  and  companions  are  received  by  Queen  Tzaneen  .  282 

Dr.  O'Neil,  Queen  Tzaneen,  Dr.  Sugden,  and  Mr.  Crespinell  282 

Wives  of  the  prime  minister  to  Sebuza 283 

Queen  Tzaneen  and  Lochien 283 

Princesses  at  the  sacred  bathing  pool 304 

A  scene  at  the  royal  bathing  pool 305 

Interior  of  the  royal  kraal 320 

Chief  witch-doctor  of  Swaziland 320 

A  school  of  witch-doctors 321 

A  Swazi  seminary  or  school  for  young  witch-doctors    .      .      .  321 

Crown  Prince  Sebuza  in  festival  dress 336 

Crown  Prince  Sebuza 337 

Lochien,  commander-in-chief  of  Prince  Sebuza's  impis   .      .  352 

Warriors  of  Prince  Sebuza's  impis  starting  out  to  battle  .      .  352 

One  of  the  royal  impis 353 

Priests  building  the  sacred  fire 360 

A  view  of  the  kraal 361 

Mr.  Crespinell  at  home  among  his  black  brethren    ....  376 

Dr.  Sugden,  Prince  Lomwazi,  and  Dr.  O'Neil 376 

Dr.  O'Neil,  Mr.  Crespinell,  and  Dr.  Sugden  after  their  in- 
duction into  the  royal  impi 377 


XU 


ADVENTURES 
IN   SWAZILAND 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

CHAPTER   I 

How  the  CNeUs  came  to  the  Transvaal — Boers  with  Irish  names — Oom 
Paul's  refusal  to  buy  Delagoa  Bay — ^The  Boers  break  for  freedom — 
Their  bloody  battles  with  the  savage  tribes — The  Great  Trek — Din- 
gaanzulu's  treachery — The  Dingaan  Day  celebration. 

1WAS  born  only  a  few  days  trek,  or  march,  from  the 
Swazi  border  and  even  as  a  youth  made  numerous 
trips  into  Swaziland.  Through  my  uncle,  Oom  Tuys 
Grobler,  known  as  "The  White  King  of  Swaziland,"  I 
was  practically  adopted  by  the  savage  rulers  of  that 
country  and  have  always  been  received  with  the  great- 
est honor  and  consideration  by  the  various  members  of 
its  royal  family.  My  family  have  always  been  inter- 
ested in  Swaziland  and  there  was  seldom  a  time  when 
one  of  my  ten  brothers  was  not  hunting  or  visiting 
there.  As  one  of  the  O'Neils  of  Rietvlei,  which  means 
"The  Valley  of  Reeds,"  any  of  us  were  welcome. 

It  may  seem  strange  that  Boers  should  bear  the  name 
O'Neil,  but  this  is  not  out  of  the  ordinary  in  the  Trans- 
vaal. There  are  many  Boer  families,  most  of  them 
prominent  in  South  Africa,  who  have  Irish  names. 
My  father's  first  wife  was  a  Madden  and  our  home- 
stead at  Rietvlei  is  only  about  seven  miles  from  the 
town  of  Belfast,  which  our  family  founded  and  named, 

3 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

The  record  is  not  clear  how  these  Irish  names  are  found 
among  the  Boers,  but  the  fact  that  many  Boers  have 
Celtic  names  refutes  the  statement  that  most  of  the 
Irish  who  fought  against  the  British  in  the  Boer  War 
were  renegades  from  the  United  Kingdom. 

My  father  is  Richard  Charles  O'Neil,  known  among 
our  people  as  "Slim  Gert,"  or  "Slick  Dick"  as  it  would 
be  Americanized,  the  title  being  a  tribute  to  his  astute- 
ness and  good  business  sense.  He  was  for  six  years 
minister  of  finance  in  the  cabinet  of  the  late  Oom  Paul 
Kruger,  who  has  come  to  be  regarded  as  one  of  the 
really  great  South  Africans,  his  fame  being  greater  to- 
day than  at  the  time  of  his  death.  Father  split  with 
Oom  Paul  over  the  Delagoa  Bay  question  and  resigned 
from  his  cabinet.  At  that  time  the  Portuguese  offered 
to  sell  Delagoa  Bay  to  Oom  Paul  for  twenty  thousand 
pounds.  This  was  shortly  before  the  Boer  War. 
Father  strongly  advocated  the  purchase,  since  it  would 
give  our  people  an  outlet  on  the  coast,  the  Bay  being  a 
fine  harbor.  Oom  Paul,  however,  emphatically  refused 
to  buy. 

"It  would  only  give  our  enemies,  the  English,  a  chance 
to  attack  us  from  the  sea,"  he  said,  ending  the  cabinet 
conference.  "Now  they  can  't  get  to  us  through  Portu- 
guese territory." 

To-day  Delagoa  Bay  could  not  be  bought  for  twenty 
million  pounds. 

My  grandfather  was  John  James  O'Neil,  a  direct 
descendant  of  the  O'Neil  who  fled  from  Ireland  in  the 

4 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

time  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  and  it  was  he  who  chose 
Rietvlei  as  the  family  farm.  When  I  say  "farm,"  I 
use  the  term  in  the  Boer  sense,  since  Rietvlei  includes 
more  than  100,000  acres  of  the  most  fertile  land  in  the 
Transvaal  and  is  quite  large  even  for  South  Africa,  the 
country  of  vast  distances. 

As  one  of  the  survivors  of  "The  Great  Trek,"  my 
grandfather  had  suffered  the  most  intense  hardships 
and  escaped  dangers  that  are  almost  unbelievable  to- 
day. This  trek  was  the  wholesale  migration  of  Boers 
who  were  dissatisfied  with  British  rule  and  had  decided 
to  carve  out  a  country  for  themselves  in  what  was  then 
wildest  Africa. 

The  original  Boers  were  the  descendants  of  the 
Huguenots  who  were  expelled  from  France  to  Holland 
and  eventually  went  overseas.  They  made  their  chief 
settlement  in  what  is  now  Cape  Town,  then  a  port  of  call 
for  the  far-flung  commerce  of  the  Dutch,  who  were 
at  that  time  the  dominant  maritime  nation.  The  British 
took  Cape  Town  from  the  Dutch  in  1806,  but  returned 
the  colony  to  Holland  a  few  years  later.  Finally,  in 
1815,  the  Dutch  ceded  Cape  Town  to  the  British  for  a 
sum  said  to  be  six  million  pounds. 

Up  to  that  time  the  settlers  of  the  Cape  Colony  had 
only  branched  out  as  far  as  the  Great  Fish  River. 
This  was  the  limit  of  safety,  since  beyond  lay  track- 
less wastes  and  millions  of  savage  natives  noted  for 
their  hostility  and  cannibalism.  Practically  all  these 
settlers  were  the  ancestors  of  the  present  Boers. 

5 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

As  is  occasionally  the  case  in  present  times,  it  was 
the  missionaries  who  caused  the  trouble  that  led  to  the 
breaking  up  of  the  old  Boer  homes  in  Cape  Colony. 
A  number  of  these  religious  gentlemen  came  out  from 
England  and  lived  for  a  short  time  in  the  Colony.  On 
their  return  to  London  they  misrepresented  facts  to 
the  king  to  such  an  extent  that  a  number  of  restrictive 
laws  and  regulations  were  passed.  These  made  life 
impossible  for  the  Boers,  who  have  always  been  a  free- 
dom-loving people. 

Finally  about  ten  thousand  of  the  burghers  got  to- 
gether and  conmienced  their  exodus  from  Cape  Colony 
into  the  unknown  territory  beyond  the  Great  Fish 
River.  The  Zulus  and  Basutus  met  the  first  party,  there 
was  a  bitter  fight,  and  every  Boer  man,  woman  and 
child  was  massacred.  In  many  cases,  when  the  men 
realized  that  there  was  no  hope,  they  killed  their  own 
womenfolk  so  that  they  might  not  fall  into  the  hands 
of  the  savages. 

This  bloody  tragedy  did  not  deter  the  determined 
Boers.  Other  parties  followed,  and  soon  these  pioneers 
founded  various  settlements.  Every  foot  of  their  ad- 
vance was  gained  by  fighting,  and  the  Boer  conquest 
of  the  Transvaal  and  Orange  Free  State  may  well  be 
said  to  have  been  won  by  the  blood  of  freemen.  Some 
of  these  expeditions  settled  in  Natal  and  founded  the 
city  of  Pietermaritzburg,  named  after  their  great  leader, 
Pieter  Maritz. 

It  was  during  the  year  1830  that  my  grandfather 

6 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

joined  the  Great  Trek  and  left  Cape  Colony  with  a 
large  expedition  led  by  Piet  Retief  and  Piet  Potgier. 
The  party  had  much  trouble  with  the  Zulus,  its  progress 
being  a  continuous  fight.  On  reaching  the  Vaal  River, 
Potgier  and  Retief  came  to  loggerheads  and  agreed  to 
separate.  Each  had  his  own  opinion  as  to  where  they 
ought  to  go,  and  each  followed  his  own  idea.  My 
grandfather  remained  with  Retief  and  thereby  nearly 
lost  his  life.  With  my  grandfather  was  his  brother, 
Richard  Charles  O'Neil,  after  whom  my  father  was 
named. 

Piet  Retief  was  killed  by  the  Zulus,  and  this  massacre 
is  now  history,  almost  sacred  history,  in  the  Transvaal. 
It  seems  that  Retief  led  his  party  into  what  is  now  Natal 
and  there  undertook  to  come  to  some  basis  of  peace  with 
the  savages.  A  truce  was  declared,  and  he  went  to  the 
Zulu  royal  kraal  and  saw  their  great  chief,  Dingaanzulu. 
The  chief  agreed  to  cede  certain  territory  to  Retief  if 
the  Boer  would  recover  for  the  Zulus  certain  cattle 
stolen  from  them  by  another  savage  nation.  This  land 
was  to  be  the  first  of  the  new  Republic  of  Natalia,  which 
my  grandfather  and  Retief  planned  to  found. 

Retief  recovered  the  cattle  and  with  one  hundred 
burghers  visited  the  Zulu  royal  kraal  and  returned  them 
to  Dingaanzulu.  After  the  cattle  were  driven  in  the 
Zulu  chief  sent  for  the  Boer  leader,  ostensibly  to  arrange 
about  the  land  grant.  He  insisted  that  the  Boers  were 
now  his  friends  and,  as  such,  should  leave  their  weapons 
outside  the  royal  kraal  and  enter  unarmed.    The  ruth- 

7 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

less  Zulu  chief  said  that  this  would  be  "an  evidence  of 
the  good  hearts  of  the  white  men." 

With  great  foreboding  Retief  did  as  he  was  asked. 
With  his  hundred  men  he  went  into  the  kraal  and  found 
Dingaanzulu  in  the  most  friendly  frame  of  mind.  After 
fraternization  the  chief  told  the  Boers  that  a  great 
celebration  had  been  prepared  in  their  honor,  and  that 
night  there  was  feasting,  dancing,  and  much  speech- 
making  in  front  of  the  great  fires. 

I  have  often  heard  what  happened  next.  It  is  history 
with  us  and  tradition  with  the  Zulus,  Swazis,  and  other 
natives  of  our  section  of  the  Transvaal.  The  story  was 
first  told  me  by  an  old  Zulu  who  was  a  sort  of  farnx- 
helper  at  our  home  when  I  was  a  little  fellow.  He 
claimed  to  have  been  there,  and  from  his  evidence  I 
beHeve  he  was. 

"There  was  a  great  feast  and  all  the  fires  were 
lighted,"  he  said.  "Many  cattle  had  been  killed  and  all 
the  royal  impis  (regiments)  were  in  full  costume. 
These  were  the  picked  men  of  all  Zululand,  and  they 
danced  for  a  long  time  before  the  fires. 

"Dingaanzulu  sat  with  the  white  leader,  and  they 
drank  tswala  (kaffir  beer)  together.  Often  they  would 
shake  hands,  and  it  was  as  though  they  were  brothers. 
All  the  other  white  men  sat  near  the  fires  in  front  of 
the  king.  They,  too,  had  much  tswala  and  plenty  to 
eat. 

"When  it  was  quite  late  and  the  moon  shone  through 
the  flames  of  the  dying  fires,  many  of  the  royal  impi 

8 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

gathered  behind  those  who  were  dancing  and  waited 
for  a  sign  from  Dingaanzulu.  Soon  this  came,  and  then 
the  killing!  Dingaanzulu  stood  up  and  threw  his  leop- 
ard-skin cloak  about  his  shoulders.  This  was  the  sign. 
The  waiting  warriors  dashed  through  the  dancers  and 
threw  themselves  upon  the  white  men.  Assegais  flashed, 
and  the  Boer  leader  dashed  to  his  men.  These  held  to- 
gether and  fought  the  impis  with  bare  hands.  Some  of 
the  white  men  were  very  strong  and  tore  assegais  from 
the  warriors  and  fought  with  them,  stabbing,  and  stab- 
bing, and  stabbing! 

"But  there  were  hundreds,  even  thousands,  of  Zulus 
to  each  white  man,  and  the  fight  could  not  last  long. 
All  the  white  men  were  killed,  and  some  were  stabbed 
scores  of  times  before  they  died.  I  do  not  know  how 
their  leader  died,  but  we  found  him  with  a  broken  assegai 
in  his  hand  and  seven  dead  warriors  about  him." 

As  soon  as  Dingaanzulu  had  murdered  Retief  and  his 
band,  he  sent  his  impis  to  kill  all  the  remaining  mem- 
bers of  the  expedition.  My  grandfather  and  his  brother 
were  in  charge  of  the  main  encampment,  or  laager,  at 
Weenan,  which  means  "Weeping,"  or  "Place  of  Sor- 
row." The  wagons  had  been  formed  into  a  hollow 
square,  and  the  Boers  finally  drove  off  the  Zulus  after 
a  fight  lasting  several  days.  Hundreds  of  the  savages 
were  killed,  and  the  Boers  lost  a  large  number  of  men 
who  could  ill  be  spared. 

Then  my  grandfather  and  his  party  settled  in  the 

9 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

district  surrounding  Majuba  Hill.  His  brother  founded 
the  place  known  as  "O'Neil's  Farm"  at  the  foot  of 
Majuba,  while  my  grandfather  estabhshed  and  named 
the  village  of  Belfast  on  the  top  of  the  hill.  Following 
this  he  moved  to  Potchefstroom,  and  from  there  north- 
east, where  he  established  the  Republic  of  Lydenburg. 
These  various  little  republics  were  discontinued,  or 
rather  merged  into  the  modern  form  of  government, 
when  the  Boers  became  sufficiently  numerous  and  com- 
munications were  established. 

After  the  establishment  of  the  Republic  of  Lyden- 
burg my  grandfather  discovered  Rietvlei,  the  "Valley  of 
Reeds,"  which  has  been  the  O'Neil  homestead  ever  since. 

The  massacre  of  Retief  and  his  devoted  band  is  cele- 
brated yearly  by  a  three-day  holiday  in  the  Transvaal 
and  Orange  Free  State.  The  celebration  is  in  the 
nature  of  a  memorial  service,  followed  by  rejoicing. 
About  every  eighty  miles  throughout  the  Boer  country 
a  spot  is  designated,  and  the  burghers,  with  their  fam- 
ilies, trek  to  this  place.  This  trek  is  symbolic  of  the 
"Great  Trek"  in  which  their  ancestors  died.  On  the 
first  day  of  the  celebration  there  is  a  sham  battle  in  which 
the  fight  at  Weenan  is  acted  again,  and  the  last  two 
days  are  given  over  to  religious  services  and  the  festivi- 
ties. 

All  self-respecting  Boer  families  join  in  the  Dingaan 
Day  celebration,  many  of  them  coming  scores  of  miles 
to  do  so.     The  children  are  taught  the  story  of  "the 

10 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

day"  in  the  schools,  and  it  is  probably  the  most  im- 
portant civic  celebration  of  the  year. 

Piet  Potgier's  party  was  entirely  wiped  out,  none 
surviving  attacks  made  by  the  combined  impis  of  the 
Zulus  and  Basutus. 


11 


CHAPTER   II 

Rietvlei,  the  "Valley  of  Reeds" — ^The  O'Neil  homestead — ^Pioneer  hardships 
— The  war  against  Maleuw,  "The  Lion" — "Slim  Gert"  O'Neil  breaks 
the  power  of  the  Makateese  king — Jafta,  King  of  the  Mapors — My 
boyhood  and  "J ass" — Sibijaan,  "The  Skunk,"  becomes  my  pal — My 
first  trousers  nearly  cost  me  an  eye — Our  toy  factory  and  mimic  bat- 
tles— Oom  Tuys  Grobler  tells  of  Swaziland  and  King  Buno,  "The 
Terrible." 

RIETVLEI  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  accidents 
of  nature  I  have  ever  seen.  To  properly  appre- 
ciate this  wonderful  Valley  of  Reeds,  it  should  be  ap- 
proached across  the  high  veldt.  To  reach  it  in  this  way 
is  to  receive  a  thrill  that  is  seldom  felt  when  viewing  any 
scene.  It  is  set  like  a  jewel  in  the  wilderness  of  the  veldt 
and  seems  more  like  a  sunken  oasis  than  anything  else. 
Time  and  time  again  I  have  been  almost  startled  when 
I  suddenly  saw  Rietvlei. 

As  you  ride  across  the  high  veldt  you  are  struck  by 
its  utter  barrenness  and  the  thousands  of  ant-hills  on 
all  sides.  The  wild  grasses,  browned  by  the  sun,  are 
higher  than  your  horse's  belly  and  far  in  the  distance 
are  the  barren  hills.  The  veldt,  with  its  altitude  of  about 
seven  thousand  feet,  is  much  like  the  plains  of  Arizona, 
New  Mexico,  and  Texas.  It  is  almost  desert.  Hun- 
dreds of  times  I  have  crossed  this  veldt  on  my  hairy 
Boer  pony  and  always  the  same  thing  has  happened. 
Several  times,  sometimes  scores  of  times,  springbok, 

12 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

blesbok,  or  duiker,  the  antelopes  of  the  veldt,  have 
jumped  to  their  feet  and  scampered  off  through  the 
tall  gi'ass.  ]My  pony  would  give  one  leap  and  then  dash 
madly  after  them.  If  I  was  day-dreaming,  I  was  likely 
to  find  myself  unhorsed  and  facing  a  chase  after  my 
active  steed.  However,  one  gets  used  to  such  inter- 
ruptions and  it  was  seldom  that  I  did  not  enjoy  the 
chase.  It  is  no  use  to  think  that  a  Boer  pony  can  be 
prevented  from  pursuing  these  antelope;  he  is  trained 
to  do  it  from  the  first  time  he  feels  a  saddle,  and  his 
quickness  often  makes  it  possible  for  the  shot  that  pro- 
vides fresh  meat  that  night  in  camp. 

After  miles  and  miles  of  veldt,  with  the  distant  hills 
seeming  to  recede  as  one  goes  on,  the  fascination  of 
space  loses  its  grip  and  the  fatigue  of  monotony  follows. 
About  the  time  I  would  begin  to  feel  like  a  sailor  adrift 
in  mid-ocean  the  blessed  relief  would  come — ^I  would 
reach  Rietvlei! 

My  pony  would  come  to  a  sudden  stop  on  the  rim  of 
a  great  precipice  and  thousands  of  feet  below  I  would 
see  the  Valley  of  Reeds  with  the  settlement  that  meant 
home.  The  high  veldt  breaks  off  abruptly,  as  though 
cut  with  a  giant  knife,  exactly  like  parts  of  the  Grand 
Canon  of  the  Colorado  in  America.  Since  the  begin- 
ning of  time  the  little  rivers  of  Rietvlei  have  worn  down 
the  veldt  until  they  have  hollowed  out  thousands  and 
thousands  of  acres.  From  the  cool  high  veldt  to  the 
fertile  green  Valley  of  Reeds  is  a  wonderful  change, 
and  it  takes  a  full  hour  to  climb  down  the  winding  trail. 

13 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

My  grandfather,  John  James  O'Neil,  was  the  first 
white  man  to  see  Rietvlei  and  he  immediately  decided 
that  he  need  look  no  further  for  his  home.  He  at  once 
settled  there  and  went  through  many  hardships  to  found 
his  home.  The  natives  inhabiting  the  valley  were  the 
Mapors,  then  a  powerful  and  hostile  tribe.  My  father 
built  our  present  home,  which  is  of  white  limestone, 
iron,  and  wood,  all  of  which  had  to  be  brought  some  six 
hundred  miles  by  ox -teams.  It  was  many  years  before 
the  house  was  completed,  but  my  father  intended  it  as 
the  permanent  home  of  the  O'Neils  and  it  will  stand 
for  centuries. 

The  hardships  endured  by  my  grandfather  and  father 
were  such  as  would  have  daunted  less  stem  men,  but 
they  were  Boers  and  all  Africa  knows  them  to  be  the 
greatest  pioneers  the  world  has  ever  seen.  Jafta,  king 
of  the  Mapors,  whose  royal  kraal  was  about  forty-eight 
miles  from  my  home,  was  my  family's  greatest  enemy. 
Both  my  grandfather  and  father  were  constantly  at  war 
with  him  and  were  forced  to  maintain  a  large  force  of 
fighting  men  to  repel  his  attacks.  There  was  always  the 
threat  that  Jafta  would  overwhelm  the  little  band  of 
doughty  Boers  in  the  valley,  and  the  white  men  prac- 
tically lived  with  their  guns  in  their  hands. 

Those  were  anxious  days  for  the  womenfolk.  All 
supplies  had  to  be  brought  in  from  the  coast,  and  the 
wagons  were  months  on  the  way.  Sometimes  they 
would  be  gone  for  nearly  a  year  and  during  all  this  time 
the  women  never  knew  but  that  some  hostile  native  tribe 

14 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

had  overwhelmed  the  devoted  burghers  and  killed  all 
their  men.  Dogged,  dauntless,  and  determined,  the  men 
won  through  time  after  time,  until  there  broke  out  the 
great  war  fomented  by  Maleuw,  king  of  the  Makateese. 
He  was  known  as  "The  Lion"  and  was  a  very  able 
savage,  brave,  cunning,  and  a  born  leader  of  men. 

Maleuw  became  obsessed  with  the  idea  that  the  white 
men  should  be  driven  out,  and  with  this  object  provoked 
a  war  with  Jafta,  king  of  the  Mapors.  It  seems  that 
Jafta,  although  he  had  been  carrying  on  his  private  feud 
against  the  white  men,  did  not  care  to  join  Maleuw 
and  refused  to  aid  him.  The  Makateese  were  the  most 
warlike  nation  at  that  time,  probably  owing  to  the  in- 
spiration of  "The  Lion,"  and  they  swept  down  on  the 
Mapors  with  the  expressed  intention  of  exterminating 
them. 

The  war  was  most  sanguinary.  No  prisoners  were 
taken,  and  it  soon  began  to  look  as  though  the  Mapors 
would  be  wiped  out.  The  white  men  made  no  eifort  to- 
ward peace,  taking  the  view  that  the  more  of  their 
enemies  were  killed  the  safer  life  would  be  for  them. 
Soon  Jafta  and  his  troops  were  in  full  flight,  and  then 
the  white  men  found  themselves  facing  another  and 
more  real  danger.  With  Maleuw  victorious  he  could 
rally  additional  armies,  and  this  meant  he  would  be 
powerful  enough  to  drive  the  white  men  out  and  prob- 
ably kill  most  of  them. 

Under  my  father,  Slim  Gert  O'Neil,  a  council  of  war 
was  called  at  Rietvlei  and  the  leading  Boers  and  some  of 

15 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

the  British  settlers  attended.  Chiefs  of  the  Basuto  and 
Swazi  nations  were  sent  for,  and  it  was  decided  to  save 
the  remnants  of  the  Mapor  nation  and  in  so  doing  break 
the  power  of  "The  Lion"  and  his  Makateese  armies. 
Umbandine  was  king  of  Swaziland  at  that  time. 

King  Maleuw  found  himself  attacked  by  a  large  army- 
made  up  of  Boers,  British,  Basutos,  Mapors,  and 
Swazis,  and  there  were  several  fierce  battles.  In  some 
manner  the  Makateese  had  obtained  a  number  of  rifles 
and  there  was  much  loss  of  life  on  both  sides.  This  war 
ended  with  the  utter  crushing  of  Maleuw  and  his  army, 
and  since  then  the  Makateese  have  never  threatened  the 
peace  of  the  Transvaal.  The  final  battle  was  the  storm- 
ing of  Maleuw's  kraal,  which  was  a  veritable  fortress  on 
the  top  of  a  steep  hill  about  five  hundred  feet  high. 

The  hill  is  now  known  as  "Maleuwkop,"  in  memory 
of  the  old  "Lion."  It  was  practically  impregnable  to  a 
native  army  using  only  savage  weapons.  The  "palace" 
proper  was  on  the  top  of  the  hill  and  was  entirely  sur- 
rounded by  walls  of  thorn  trees  and  prickly-pear 
cactus.  These  thorn  trees  are  most  formidable,  the 
thorns  being  about  three  inches  long  and  sharp  as 
needles.  The  Boers  call  them  "haakensteek,"  which  is 
translated  into  "catch-and-stick."  The  British  call  them 
"wait-a-bit"  thorns,  and  under  either  name  they  are 
equally  dangerous. 

Outside  the  thorn  wall  there  was  a  row  of  huts  in 
which  the  picked  warriors  of  Maleuw  lived.  Below  the 
huts  came  another  thorn  wall  and  another  row  of  huts. 

16 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

There  were  eight  or  ten  such  settlements,  each  guarded 
by  its  own  wall.  I  have  heard  many  tales  of  the  battle, 
which  lasted  all  day.  Finally  the  white  men  broke 
through  the  various  thorn  walls,  and  that  was  the  end 
of  the  Makateese  peril.  My  father  in  telling  of  the  fight 
has  often  said,  "If  we  had  had  one  field-gun — only  a 
little  one — ^we  could  have  blown  'The  Lion'  out  of  his 
lair  and  saved  many  lives." 

Shortly  after  this  war  I  was  bom  at  Rietvlei.  I  was 
the  youngest  of  ten  sons  and  spent  my  entire  childhood 
without  white  playmates,  except  for  my  sister,  Ellen, 
always  my  favorite.  One  of  my  earliest  recollections 
is  of  seeing  King  Jafta  when  he  paid  ceremonial  visits 
to  my  father.  Under  the  conditions  upon  which  the 
Boers  agreed  to  help  him  against  the  Makateese,  Jafta 
had  ceded  certain  rich  territories  to  Oom  Paul  Kruger. 
This  land  President  Kruger  sold  to  my  father,  who 
made  an  agreement  with  Jafta  whereby  the  savage  but 
now  king-in-reduced-circumstances  was  allowed  to  re- 
main in  possession  for  a  certain  length  of  time.  It  was 
in  connection  with  this  agreement  that  Jafta  would  visit 
Rietvlei  at  certain  intervals. 

I  was  only  a  little  child  then,  but  I  can  remember  the 
fallen  king  well.  Owing  to  his  lack  of  power  he  could 
not  make  much  of  a  showing,  but  it  was  necessary  that 
he  maintain  his  kingly  dignity  on  these  visits.  He  would 
be  accompanied  by  the  last  of  his  officers  and  a  small 
impi,  or  regiment,  and  my  father  would  treat  with  him 
exactly  as  though  he  were  the  powerful  chief  of  former 

17 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

times.  Jafta  remembered  this  later  and  repaid  us  by- 
giving  us  valuable  assistance  during  the  Boer  War,  at 
the  time  when  the  British  were  overrunning  our  lands. 
The  ceremonies  attending  Jafta's  visits  were  always 
about  the  same.  His  courier  would  come  ahead  to  an- 
nounce his  arrival,  and  my  father  would  send  word  that 
he  was  pleased  to  see  him  and  that  his  party  should  ap- 
proach. Then  Jafta,  entirely  naked  except  for  an  old 
silk  hat  my  father  had  given  him,  would  stride  into  the 
garden  and  when  my  father  came  out  of  the  house  would 
make  an  oration.  My  father  would  listen  most  respect- 
fully and  then  would  reply,  always  addressing  the  de- 
posed king  as  "Nkoos,"  which  has  the  same  meaning  to 
our  kafRrs  as  "Your  Majesty  the  King"  has  to  the  aver- 
age Britisher. 

The  silk  hat  was  very  important  in  Jafta's  eyes.  It 
meant  much  more  than  a  mere  personal  adornment. 
My  father  always  wears  silk  hats,  even  when  traveling 
about  the  farm,  and  Jafta  attached  much  significance 
to  the  one  he  wore  and  always  guarded  it  most  carefully. 
In  fact,  one  of  the  greatest  honors  he  could  confer  on 
any  of  his  officers  was  to  make  one  of  them  official  guard- 
ian of  the  hat  when  he  was  not  wearing  it.  This  was 
the  savage  conception  of  the  coveted  post  of  "Keeper 
of  the  Crown  Jewels"  that  is  found  in  some  present-day 
monarchies. 

However,  Jafta  finally  came  on  more  evil  days.  Ow- 
ing to  certain  outside  influences  which  were  brought  to 
bear  upon  him  and  to  which  he  acceded,  it  became  neces- 

18 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

sary  to  take  severe  measures,  and  he  and  his  small  band 
of  followers  were  removed  from  the  territory  my  father 
had  loaned  them.  This  was  rather  sad,  because  this 
land  had  been  the  site  of  the  royal  kraal  of  the  Mapors 
since  time  immemorial. 

Nevertheless,  we  have  continued  to  employ  Mapors 
on  the  farm  and  have  a  number  of  families  there  now. 
My  old  nurse  was  a  Mapor  woman.  She  was  faithful- 
ness personified,  and  I  led  her  a  merry  dance.  Her  only 
garment  was  a  loin  cloth  made  of  a  duiker  skin,  and  on 
account  of  her  scant  clothing  my  older  brothers  nick- 
named her  "Jass,"  which  means  "overcoat."  Jass  was 
the  mother  of  several  httle  Mapors,  the  scars  on  her  fore- 
head showing  their  number.  Like  all  the  other  savages 
in  the  Transvaal,  the  Mapors  practice  scarification  to  a 
great  extent.  The  women  are  scarred  either  on  the  fore- 
head or  breasts,  while  the  men  are  entitled  to  a  scar  on 
the  forehead  for  each  enemy  they  have  killed. 

Until  I  was  sent  to  boarding-school  in  Grahamstown, 
that  is,  until  I  was  well  into  my  teens,  my  only  com- 
panions were  little  kaffir  boys.  My  best  pal  was  Sibi- 
jaan,  whose  name  means  "The  Skunk,"  and  even  to-day 
he  is  my  body  servant  when  I  am  at  home.  How  we 
came  to  possess  him  is  illustrative  of  conditions  in  the 
district  surrounding  Rietvlei. 

Sibijaan  and  two  other  httle  kaffirs  were  brought  to 
our  home  early  one  morning  by  a  neighbor  of  ours  who 
had  captured  them  on  our  property.  It  seems  they  be- 
longed to  some  tribe  that  had  recently  been  wiped  out 

19 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

by  the  Zulus  and  had  been  fleeing  north  to  get  away 
from  the  death  that  caught  their  people.  I  have  never 
seen  so  miserable  a  trio  as  these  poor  little  natives.  They 
were  almost  starved  and  were  unutterably  dirty.  In 
addition,  they  were  in  a  state  of  most  pitiable  terror. 
They  regarded  the  white  men  with  bulging  eyes  and 
seemed  only  to  want  a  place  to  hide. 

Since  they  had  been  captured  on  our  farm,  they  be- 
longed to  us.  My  mother  was  at  home  at  the  time,  and 
the  neighbor  and  she  had  a  pretty  argument  as  to  the 
disposal  of  the  captives.  I  listened  to  all  of  it,  keeping 
one  eye  on  the  little  boys  and  wondering  how  I  would 
feel  if  I  were  in  their  place. 

Finally  my  mother  agreed  that  the  neighbor  should 
have  the  largest  of  the  three,  since  he  was  big  enough  to 
be  of  some  use  in  herding  cattle  and  sheep.  The  two 
little  fellows  were  to  belong  to  us,  and  subsequent  events 
proved  that  we  had  much  the  best  of  the  bargain.  The 
one  taken  by  our  neighbor  soon  escaped,  while  our  cap- 
tives quickly  became  devoted  to  us  and  are  with  us  yet. 
The  elder  of  the  two  was  Sibijaan,  and  my  mother  gave 
him  to  me  for  my  own  servant  and  playmate.  Several 
of  my  brothers  happened  to  be  spending  a  few  days  at 
the  farm  at  this  time  and  they  gave  Sibijaan  his  name. 
Dick  did  the  naming  when  he  said,  "The  little  nigger 
would  make  a  skunk  blush  with  envy.  Let 's  call  him 
The  Skunk!" 

Sibijaan  and  I  soon  had  definite  tasks  assigned  to  us. 
On  a  Boer  farm  no  one  rests — all  have  their  work,  even 

20 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

to  the  women  and  children.  We  were  sent  out  to  mind 
the  sheep,  of  which  my  father  had  thousands,  and  were 
given  about  a  dozen  other  little  kaffirs  as  assistants.  I 
was  about  seven  years  old  at  this  time,  big  and  strong 
for  my  age. 

During  those  years  there  was  a  great  lack  of  traders 
in  our  section  of  the  Transvaal.  This  was  due  to  the 
continuous  wars  in  which  the  native  tribes  fought  one 
another  and  now  and  then  raided  a  Boer  farm.  Traders 
had  been  killed  and  their  goods  stolen,  and  nc«ie  ever 
stopped  at  the  Valley  of  Reeds.  This  meant  that  my 
father  had  to  outfit  expeditions  and  make  the  long  jour- 
ney to  the  coast  and  back  again,  if  we  were  to  have  any 
of  the  civihzed  necessities  or  luxuries. 

Our  neighbors  would  join  in  these  expeditions,  and 
often  there  would  be  a  score  of  ox-wagons  and  several 
score  Boers  in  the  parties.  I  remember  these  expedi- 
tions well  for  many  reasons — ^my  mother  used  to  spend 
anxious  months  during  my  father's  absence  and  about 
this  time  there  was  an  expedition  which  brought  me  my 
first  pair  of  trousers.  These,  in  turn,  were  the  cause 
of  my  receiving  an  injury  to  one  of  my  eyes  from  which 
I  never  fully  recovered.  My  father  had  been  away  for 
seven  months  this  time  and  we  had  begun  to  fear  that 
hostile  natives  had  attacked  the  caravan  and  done  him 
some  harm.  Many  and  many  such  an  outfit  had  been 
wiped  out  by  the  Zulus,  Makateese,  or  other  hostile 
tribes,  and  there  never  was  any  assurance  that  the  few 

21 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

rifles  of  the  Boers  could  stop  the  rush  of  the  savage 
impis. 

On  this  occasion  Sibijaan  and  I  were  minding  a  small 
herd  of  sheep  on  the  little  plateau  that  overlooks  the 
heart  of  Rietvlei.  We  were  quite  busy  trying  to  drive 
the  flock  to  a  better  feeding-ground  when  Sibijaan  sud- 
denly stopped  and  listened. 

"Strangers  coming!"  he  shouted.  "I  smell  oxen  and 
wagons.    White  men  coming  up  the  Rietvlei!" 

We  looked  in  the  direction  he  indicated  and  saw  a 
cloud  of  dust  creeping  along  the  rough  road.  A  sec- 
ond later  a  man  in  a  silk  hat,  riding  a  familiar  horse, 
emerged  from  the  dust.  Even  at  that  distance  I  could 
see  the  rifle  across  his  saddle.  It  was  Slim  Gert  O'Neil, 
my  father. 

Sibijaan  and  I,  followed  by  all  the  other  little  kaffirs, 
raced  to  the  wagons,  where  my  father  swung  me  on  his 
horse  and  greeted  me  most  affectionately.  A  few  mo- 
ments later  occurred  the  first  really  great  event  of  my 
life — I  received  my  first  trousers!  My  father  took 
me  back  to  one  of  the  wagons  and  presented  me  with  a 
stout  pair  of  corduroys.  I  was  overjoyed  and  danced 
up  and  down,  Sibijaan  and  the  other  little  savages  join- 
ing me,  as  though  at  a  celebration.  Now,  I  felt,  at  last 
I  am  a  real  white  man,  and  the  distance  between  my 
black  playmates  and  myself  seemed  to  become  immense. 

A  little  later  I  had  slipped  into  the  trousers  and  was 
proudly  marching  at  the  head  of  my  little  impi.  We 
saw  the  wagons  into  the  home  kraal  and  then  went  back 

22 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

to  our  sheep.  I  was  the  hero  of  the  hour  among  my 
playmates,  and  this  led  to  the  injury  that  has  affected 
my  eye  ever  since. 

Sibijaan,  who  had  always  shared  with  me  the  leader- 
ship of  our  impi,  lost  caste  when  I  donned  the  trousers 
and  instinctively  became  the  kaffir.  This  hurt  him,  and 
late  in  the  afternoon  he  made  me  the  following  proposi- 
tion: 

"Klein  Baas  (meaning  'Little  Boss'),"  he  said,  in  his 
pathetic  earnestness  forgetting  to  address  me  by  my 
native  name,  "Mzaan  Bakoor,"  "you.  have  been  wearing 
the  trousers  all  day.  Don't  you  think  it  is  my  turn  to 
wear  them?  We  are  both  indunas  (leaders)  of  our 
impi;  it  is  not  right  that  one  should  be  better  than  the 
other.  Let  me  wear  the  trousers  until  sundown  and 
show  our  men  that  we  are  brothers-in-arms !" 

This  seemed  reasonable  to  me.  Sibijaan  and  I  had 
shared  our  joys  and  woes  for  several  years  and  there 
was  no  reason  for  my  refusing  him  the  honor  of  wearing 
the  wonderful  corduroys.  We  changed.  I  put  on  his 
beads  and  he  got  into  my  corduroys.  Then  came  a  per- 
fect exhibition  of  the  kaffir  temperament.  Sibijaan  be- 
came insufferably  arrogant.  He  gave  orders  to  our 
impi,  and  for  a  moment  I  thought  he  was  going  to  try 
and  command  me.  The  more  he  lorded  it  over  the 
others,  the  more  sullen  and  angered  they  became. 

Of  course  the  inevitable  happened.  Several  of  the 
little  lads  demanded  that  they  be  allowed  their  turn  at 

23 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

wearing  the  trousers,  the  badge  of  authority,  as  it  were. 
Sibijaan  refused.  ' 

"No,  no,  you  cannot  wear  them!"  he  shouted.  "Now 
I  am  a  man;  I  am  ahnost  white!  I  am  a  man  and  you 
are  little  boys!  Who  am  I  that  I  should  take  notice  of 
such  dirt?" 

But  he  did.  This  last  insult  was  too  much.  The  in- 
dignant lads  attacked  Sibijaan,  and  in  a  second  there 
was  a  squirming  mass  of  black  legs,  arms,  and  bodies, 
with  my  precious  trousers  in  danger  of  destruction.  We 
all  had  assegais,  or  short  stabbing  spears,  and  regard- 
less of  these  I  dashed  into  the  melee.  Death  or  wounds 
were  little  things  compared  to  the  loss  of  those  trousers. 

When  the  fight  was  over  I  had  been  stabbed  in  the 
eye,  but  I  had  the  trousers  I  Practically  every  boy  had 
at  least  one  wound,  and  one  of  the  little  fellows  died  be- 
fore we  got  him  back  to  the  house  where  he  could  have 
attention.  Owing  to  lack  of  proper  medical  care  my 
eye  was  allowed  to  get  well  without  expert  attention  and 
will  always  show  the  effects  of  this  trouser-fight.  From 
then  on,  however,  I  wore  the  trousers. 

I  shall  always  remember  my  father's  comment  on 
this  happening.  He  asked  me  how  the  row  had  started 
and  who  had  stabbed  the  boy  to  death.  It  was  prac- 
tically impossible  to  determine  the  latter,  and  I  ex- 
plained why.  He  listened  in  his  quiet  way  and  then 
gave  me  a  talking  to. 

"Yours  is  the  guilt  for  the  death  of  that  boy,"  he 
said.  "You  forgot  you  were  a  Boer  and  lowered  yourself 

24 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

to  the  level  of  a  Maporl  When  you  gave  Sibijaan  the 
trousers  you  became  as  the  dirt  under  his  feet.  White 
men  wear  clothes;  kaffirs  go  naked.  Does  my  son,  the 
son  of  Slim  Gert  O'Neil,  want  to  be  a  nigger?" 

Only  in  one  other  way  did  Sibijaan  threaten  my 
supremacy  as  the  undisputed  leader  of  our  impi.  This 
was  due  to  his  extraordinary  knack  in  handling  clay  in 
the  making  of  models  of  all  kinds. 

Not  far  from  the  house,  along  the  bank  of  the  river, 
there  was  a  large  clay-bank.  I  estabhshed  a  toy  fac- 
tory there  and  we  made  all  sorts  of  clay  toys,  including 
idols,  oxen,  horses,  and  models  of  everything  we  handled 
in  our  daily  life.  To  make  it  a  contest  Sibijaan  and  I, 
with  our  followers,  used  to  compete  with  Klaas  and  his 
in  the  excellency  of  our  models.  My  sister,  Ellen,  was 
the  judge.  Klaas,  by  the  way,  was  the  other  little  kaffir 
who  was  captured  at  the  same  time  our  neighbor  brought 
Sibijaan  to  us. 

Klaas  would  make  a  number  of  things,  and  his  fol- 
lowers would  duplicate  them.  Then  he  would  challenge 
us  to  do  better,  and  we  would  get  to  work.  Many  and 
many  a  day  we  spent  in  this  toy  factory,  and  the  compe- 
tition was  keen.  Soon,  however,  Sibijaan  began  to  out- 
strip all  of  us  in  the  excellency  of  his  models.  He  was 
so  much  better  at  the  play  than  I  was  that  I  soon  found 
myself  ashamed  to  place  my  models  against  his. 

I  found  myself  again  in  danger  of  losing  caste  and 
soon  hit  upon  an  idea  that  saved  my  face.  Now  the 
Boers  are  a  deeply  religious  people.    In  our  home  we 

25 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

always  had  morning  and  evening  prayers  and  the  fact 
that  we  were  scores  of  miles  from  the  nearest  church 
was  the  only  reason  that  we  did  not  attend  one.  Not 
long  before  the  toy  factory  began  to  be  a  sore  spot 
with  me,  a  minister  of  the  Dutch  church  had  visited 
Rietvlei.  He  was  visiting  the  outlying  districts  of  the 
Transvaal  and  performing  marriages  and  christenings. 
Naturally,  the  minister  held  services,  the  most  interest- 
ing part  being  the  sermon.  He  spoke  with  great  force 
and  many  gestures,  all  of  them  most  emphatic.  Like 
all  the  Boers,  he  was  bearded  and  had  shaggy  brows.  I 
found  his  sermon  most  entertaining,  although  I  under- 
stood little  of  what  he  said. 

However,  the  sermon  gave  me  an  idea.  I  decided  I 
would  be  a  minister  and  the  very  next  day  commenced 
preaching.  There  was  a  ruined  kraal,  formerly  the  resi- 
dence of  a  long-dead  cannibal  chief,  on  a  little  hill  near 
home.  I  summoned  Sibijaan,  Klaas,  and  all  the  others 
of  our  impi  to  attend  services  there,  and  then  pro- 
ceeded to  deliver  a  loud  harangue  to  them.  As  I  spoke 
in  Dutch,  with  now  and  then  a  Mapor  phrase,  they  did 
not  understand  much  of  what  I  said,  but  I  made  up  for 
this  by  my  forceful  delivery.  The  natives  are  never 
more  happy  than  when  delivering  an  oration,  the  words 
illustrated  with  full-arm  gestures,  and  I  found  my  aud- 
ience most  appreciative.  Rehgious  services  as  I  con- 
ducted them  appealed  to  the  savage  mind,  and  Sibi- 
jaan's  superiority  as  an  artist  faded  to  nothing. 

Shortly  after  the  minister's  visit,  my  uncle,  Oom 

26 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Tuys  Grobler,  came  to  stay  with  us  for  a  time.  He  had 
come  from  Swaziland  and  brought  wondrous  tales  of 
battles  there.  I  do  not  remember  what  war  was  going 
on,  but  Oom  Tuys  made  us  believe  that  war  was  the 
chief  occupation  of  the  Swazis.  He  used  to  while  away 
the  long  evenings  by  telling  me  about  King  Buno  and 
his  mother,  Queen  Labotsibeni.  To  my  childish  mind 
Buno  appeared  as  the  embodiment  of  all  things  savage 
and  ruthless,  while  his  mother  was  not  much  better.  I 
was  fired  with  the  desire  to  visit  Swaziland  and  see  the 
great  King  Buno,  and  I  asked  Oom  Tuys  to  take  me 
with  him  on  his  next  trip.  He  did  not  refuse,  but  tried 
to  discourage  me  by  relating  weird  stories  of  how  white 
boys  were  sacrificed  and  eaten  by  the  Swazi  warriors. 
These  tales  did  not  impress  me  very  much,  since  I  felt 
that  I  would  be  safe  with  my  uncle,  who  was  known 
throughout  the  Transvaal  as  the  only  Boer  King  Buno 
trusted. 

These  tales  of  battle  inspired  Sibijaan,  Klaas,  and 
myself  with  military  ardor,  and  soon  we  prepared  to 
play  the  game  of  war.  This  was  only  the  play  of  little 
black  boys  led  by  a  white,  but  out  of  it  came  my  native 
name.  I  am  called  "Mzaan  Bakoor"  by  all  the  natives 
of  our  section  of  the  Transvaal.  The  name  means  "He 
of  the  Great  Ears,"  or  "He  Who  Hears  Everything." 
How  I  earned  the  name  illustrates  our  method  of  war- 
fare. 

Klaas  would  lead  one  force,  and  Sibijaan  and  myself 
the  other.    Our  weapons  were  long  reeds  and  pellets  of 

27 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

clay.  The  pellets  would  be  fixed  on  the  end  of  the  reed 
and  thrown  with  a  full-arm  swing.  They  would  travel 
like  a  stone  from  a  sling,  and  after  a  short  time  we  be- 
came very  proficient  in  their  use.  We  could  hit  our  tar- 
get more  times  than  not,  and  I  well  remember  that  one 
of  these  clay  pellets  made  a  dangerous  missile. 

The  battle  would  start  at  long  range,  and  sometimes 
would  continue  for  hours  before  we  got  to  grips.  When 
we  were  satisfied  with  the  long-range  execution,  we 
would  rush  together  and  attack  one  another  with  our 
hands.  Sibijaan  invented  the  method  followed  in  this 
close-range  fighting.  Adversaries  would  pair  off,  each 
grasping  the  other  by  the  ears.  Then  would  ensue  an 
ear-pulling  match  which  was  only  decided  when  one  of 
the  warriors  cried  quits.  Because  I  seemed  able  to  stand 
any  amount  of  this  torture,  they  called  me  "Mzaan 
Bakoor,"  and  the  name  has  been  mine  ever  since.  This 
method  of  ear-pulling  was  another  tribute  to  Sibijaan's 
cunning,  for  both  his  ears  had  been  bitten  off  in  the 
trouser-fight  and  it  was  practically  impossible  for  any 
one  to  hang  on  to  the  remains ! 

In  addition  to  herding  the  sheep,  we  boys  were  in 
charge  of  a  herd  of  about  two  hundred  little  calves.  Our 
chief  work  with  these  was  to  prevent  them  getting  to 
their  mothers,  the  milch  cows  of  the  farm.  Each  morn- 
ing and  evening  the  calves  were  allowed  to  spend  half 
an  hour  with  their  mothers,  but  the  rest  of  the  time  they 
had  to  go  without  milk. 

Milking  time  was  always  a  busy  period  for  us.    The 

28 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

cows  were  kept  in  kraals,  or  open  enclosures,  and  each 
morning  we  would  have  to  catch  them  for  the  milkers. 
This  was  done  with  a  rope-loop  on  the  end  of  a  long 
stick.  When  the  cow  was  captured  the  rope  would  be 
passed  around  a  post,  the  cow  being  drawn  in  and  se- 
curely tied.  The  suckling  calf  was  then  brought  to  its 
mother,  and  this  soothes  the  animal.  As  soon  as  the  cow 
was  quiet,  her  hinds  legs  and  tail  were  tied  together  and 
she  was  ready  for  milking. 

The  milker  would  get  ready,  and  then  we  would  have 
to  drive  the  calf  away  and  keep  it  away  with  a  long  stick 
until  the  milking  was  finished.  It  was  all  a  primitive 
and  strenuous  performance,  but  these  Afrikander  cattle 
are  very  wild  and  cannot  be  handled. 

Another  busy  period  for  us  would  be  during  the  sheep- 
shearing  season.  The  sheep  are  divided  into  lots  and 
classes,  being  ear-marked,  and  it  used  to  be  our  work 
to  keep  them  together  and  make  ourselves  generally 
useful.  Another  duty  which  fell  to  us  was  the  leading 
of  the  ox -teams,  for,  in  fact,  the  boys  of  my  impi  could 
be  used  for  every  service  not  requiring  the  strength  of  a 
man. 

During  all  these  busy  boyhood  days  I  lived  prac- 
tically the  outdoor  life  of  a  savage.  My  early  education 
was  given  me  by  my  mother  and  my  father's  private 
secretary,  an  Englishman  with  a  university  training. 
I  was  quick  to  learn  my  lessons,  chiefly  because  success 
meant  speedy  escape  to  the  wild  pastimes  of  the  little 
savages  who  were  my  companions.    Practically  all  our 

29 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

sports  had  to  do  with  war  and  the  hunt,  so  that  I  grew 
up  to  regard  death  as  only  an  incident  in  the  life  of  a 
warrior  and  not  an  event  to  be  feared  or  worried  about. 
However,  on  my  first  visit  to  Buno,  then  king  of 
Swaziland,  I  saw  death  in  a  form  that  shocked  me  by 
its  needless  brutality  and  utter  wastefulness. 


30 


CHAPTER   III 

My  desire  to  visit  King  Buno — How  I  won  the  trip  on  a  bet — A  Boer  race 
meet — "Black  Hand  Tom,"  the  hope  of  Rietvlei — Klaas's  ride  to  save 
his  skin — Father  gives  permission  for  my  visit — Belfast  celebrates  the 
Boer  victory. 

MY  absolute  conviction  that  no  one  in  the  world 
owned  a  faster  horse  than  "Black  Hand  Tom," 
my  father's  favorite,  earned  me  my  first  visit  to  Swazi- 
land. This  was  during  the  summer  after  the  Great 
Drought,  when  the  bloody  rule  of  King  Buno  had  be- 
come the  shame  of  South  Africa. 

Day  after  day  I  had  heard  tales  about  Swaziland 
that  fed  my  desire  to  go  and  see  some  of  these  things, 
and  Oom  Tuys  never  forgot  to  make  my  hair  stand 
on  end  with  his  stories  about  his  friend,  Buno,  and  his 
warriors.  I  was  just  in  my  teens  and  the  desire  to  visit 
Swaziland  was  the  one  thing  I  lived  for.  Whenever 
Tuys  came  to  visit  my  father  I  would  get  him  aside  and 
beg  him  to  take  me  with  him  on  his  next  trip.  Indeed, 
I  kept  after  him  until  I  became  a  nuisance.  Each  time 
he  would  promise,  and  then  find  a  good  reason  for  put- 
ting me  off  until  some  time  later.  His  evasions  only 
whetted  my  appetite  for  Swaziland,  but  it  was  a  kind 
fate,  combined  with  a  little  boy's  abiding  faith  in  his 
father,  that  finally  won  the  day  for  me. 

Like  all  the  Boers,  my  father  was  a  great  horse 

31 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

fancier  and  took  pride  in  several  fast  animals  that  he 
had  bred  at  Rietvlei.  Looking  back,  I  realize  that 
these  must  have  been  very  good  horses,  their  forebears 
being  imported  stock  of  the  best  European  blood. 

It  was  in  the  sunmier  of  1897  that  my  father  arranged 
a  race  meet  at  Belfast,  about  eight  miles  from  our  home. 
This  was  the  nearest  town,  and  the  race  was  to  be  the 
crowning  event  of  a  sort  of  festival  lasting  several  days. 
Previously  my  father  had  caused  the  word  to  get  abroad 
that  he  had  several  of  the  fastest  horses  in  the  Transvaal, 
but  that  he  was  keeping  them  under  cover,  hoping  for  a 
chance  to  win  some  races  at  large  odds.  Of  course  all 
Boers  are  good  sportsmen  and  keenly  interested  in 
racing;  in  addition,  there  were  a  number  of  sporting 
Englishmen  who  noted  the  fact  that  Slim  Gert  O'Neil 
was  training  horses  in  the  Valley  of  Reeds. 

The  result  was  what  my  father  anticipated.  Word 
was  sent  to  him  by  the  sporting  crowd  in  Johannesburg 
that  they  did  not  believe  that  any  of  his  horses  were 
"worth  the  powder  to  blow  them  to  hell" — as  the  mes- 
sage was  delivered  by  Oom  Tuys.  My  father  took  this 
to  heart'  and  sent  back  word  that  the  Johannesburgers 
were  invited  to  bring  their  race  horses,  "if  they  had  any 
worthy  of  the  name,"  to  the  race  meet  at  Belfast.  There 
was  a  little  further  correspondence,  which  bordered  on 
insult  on  the  part  of  the  Johannesburgers,  and  the  ar- 
rangements were  completed  for  the  meet. 

My  father  sent  Mapor  and  Swazi  runners  to  all  the 
Boer  farms  within  a  week's  trek  of  Rietvlei,  announcing 

32 


SWAZILAND 
Drawn  by  Dr.  Owen  Rowe  O'Neil 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

the  races  and  inviting  his  friends  to  "come  and  see  what 
a  country-bred  can  do  against  the  pick  of  the  Transvaal 
and  Orange  Free  State."  It  was  a  great  day  for  all 
us  little  fellows  when  we  moved  on  Belfast.  All  but  a 
few  old  women  left  Rietvlei,  and  we  arrived  in  Belfast 
to  find  thousands  of  strangers  thronging  the  town. 

Boer  farmers  had  trekked  in  from  almost  a  hundred 
miles  away,  and  I  have  never  seen  so  many  great 
bearded  men  in  my  life.  With  their  great  slouch  hats 
and  heavy  bootsj  they  could  be  seen  swinging  along  the 
streets  in  all  directions.  There  were  literally  thousands 
of  kaffirs,  Mapors,  Swazis,  Makateese,  and  Zulus,  who 
belonged  to  the  various  parties  of  Boers  and  who  kept 
close  to  them  as  they  wandered  about  Belfast. 

Some  of  the  native  tribes  were  at  war  at  that  time, 
I  remonber,  and  there  was  some  fear  that  there  might 
be  an  outbreak  in  the  town.  This  fear  was  quelled,  how- 
ever, when  word  was  passed  that  the  first  kaffir  who 
raised  a  hand  would  be  shot  on  sight  by  the  nearest  Boer. 
He  would  have  been,  too,  because  the  Boers  never  hesi- 
tate when  dealing  with  the  blacks..  Always  our  people 
have  been  firm  in  their  dealings  with  the  natives,  with 
the  result  that  they  have  a  wholesome  respect  for  us.  It 
is  the  English,  newly  arrived  in  the  Transvaal,  who 
make  all  the  trouble  with  the  kaffirs.  Particularly  do 
the  English  and  American  missionaries  create  dissension 
among  them.  They  give  the  kaffirs  mistaken  ideas  about 
their  importance  in  the  scheme  of  things  and  lead  them 
to  believe  that  they  are  as  good  as  white  people.    Tak- 

33 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

ing  it  all  in  all,  they  have  created  more  trouble  than 
they  have  done  good.  The  missionaries  seldom  change 
their  teachings,  but  the  Englishmen  soon  wake  up  and 
after  they  have  been  in  our  country  for  about  a  year 
know  how  to  treat  the  natives. 

There  was  no  trouble  in  Belfast,  although  it  was 
said  that  there  were  several  combats  outside  the  town 
in  which  about  a  score  of  blacks  were  killed  and  wounded. 

Our  arrival  for  the  races  must  have  been  quite  an 
impressive  event.  My  father  on  his  great  horse,  wearing 
his  silk  hat,  led  the  procession.  Then  all  his  sons  and 
several  of  the  girls  followed,  on  horses  also,  and  then 
came  my  mother  in  a  light  road-wagon.  After  her  came 
our  horses,  led  by  Mapors,  and  behind  them  came  several 
hundred  of  our  retainers,  all  decked  out  in  their  festival 
costumes  and  carrying  their  short  spears  and  knob- 
kerries,  or  fighting  clubs. 

Oom  Tuys  met  us  at  the  edge  of  the  town.  He  was 
riding  a  great  roan  horse  and  was  accompanied  by  a 
number  of  father's  friends.  From  his  gestures  I  knew 
that  he  was  excited,  and  I  slyly  pressed  my  horse  for- 
ward until  I  could  hear  what  he  was  saying. 

"The  Johannesburgers  have  brought  their  best,"  he 
told  father.  "Slim  Gert,  you  will  have  to  have  all  the 
luck  in  the  world  to  beat  their  horses.  Never  have  I 
seen  better!  They  have  also  brought  much  money  and 
are  waiting  for  you  to  bet.  Will  you  bet  with  them? 
I  advise  you  not  to.  They  have  the  best  jockeys  in  the 
Transvaal,  tool" 

84 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"We  shall  see;  we  shall  see,"  was  all  father  would 
say. 

"They  are  at  the  hotel  and  they  wait  for  you,"  Oom 
Tuys  went  on.  "I  told  them  that  I  would  bring  you 
to  them." 

My  father  seemed  to  start  at  this,  and  I  saw  him  look 
sharply  at  Tuys.    Then  the  color  mounted  in  his  cheek. 

"Who  are  they  that  I  should  go  to  them?"  he  asked 
indignantly.  "Why  should  an  0*Neil  of  Rietvlei  wait 
on  these  common  gamblers  from  Johannesburg?  If  they 
want  to  see  me,  let  them  come  to  my  house  1" 

My  father  had  a  house  in  Belfast  where  he  transacted 
business  and  often  spent  the  night  when  it  was  too  late 
or  too  rainy  to  return  to  the  Valley  of  Reeds. 

Soon  we  reached  the  center  of  the  town  and  found 
thousands  waiting  to  welcome  us.  All  the  Boers  knew 
Slim  Gert  O'Neil  and  his  sons,  and  we  received  an 
ovation.  We  passed  through  the  town  to  father's  house, 
and  the  horses  were  placed  in  the  small  kraal  at  the 
rear.  He  looked  them  over,  Oom  Tuys  also  being  a 
keenly  interested  observer,  and  then  went  into  the  house. 
We  boys  remained  outside,  and  it  was  one  of  the  proud- 
est moments  of  my  life.  So  proud  was  I  that  I  felt 
impelled  to  tell  all  the  town  boys  what  I  really  thought 
about  father's  horses  and  in  particular  about  the  speed 
of  "Black  Hand  Tom." 

"He  is  so  fast,"  I  assured  them,  "that  he  outruns 
bullets.  Only  the  lightning  can  catch  him,  and  I  am 
not  any  too  sure  about  that !" 

35 


ADVENTURES  IK  SWAZILAND 

Some  of  the  boys  jeered  at  my  claim,  and  thereupon 
ensued  a  small  battle.  My  impi  backed  me  up,  and  it 
began  to  look  as  though  some  one  would  be  badly  hurt 
when  Oom  Tuys  dashed  out  of  the  house  and  scattered 
us. 

"Mzaan  Bakoor,  you  little  devil!"  he  shouted,  catch- 
ing me  by  the  ears.  "Why  do  you  make  so  much  fight? 
Why  do  you  tell  such  lies  ?  'Black  Hand  Tom'  will  only 
eat  the  dust  of  these  Johannesburg  horses.  They  are 
race  horses!" 

Now  this  was  sacrilege.  To  hear  my  uncle,  the  great 
"White  King  of  Swaziland,"  say  such  a  thing  gave  me 
such  a  shock  that  I  forgot  to  kick  his  shins  for  tweaking 
my  ears.  Then  came  my  inspiration!  Brought  up 
among  sportsmen,  I  seized  my  chance. 

"If  'Black  Hand  Tom'  is  so  slow,  then  you  bet  against 
him.    I  dare  you!"  I  said. 

"Of  course  I  will.    I  am  no  fool !"  Tuys  assured  me. 

"All  right,  Oom  Tuys,  then  you  bet  with  me  first,"  I 
said.  "If  'Black  Hand  Tom'  wins  his  race,  you  must 
take  me  with  you  to  see  King  Buno  the  next  time  you 
go.  I  dare  you  to  make  your  promise  good.  If  father's 
horse  loses,  I  '11  never  ask  you  to  take  me  to  Swaziland 
again!" 

Tuys  let  me  go  and  hesitated  a  moment.  I  taunted 
him  and  dared  him  to  take  my  bet,  and  he  finally  agreed. 

"If  'Black  Hand  Tom'  wins,  you  leave  for  Swaziland 
with  me  in  two  weeks,"  he  promised. 

We  went  into  the  house  and  found  several  of  the 

36 


ADVENTUBES  IX  SWAZILAND 

Johannesburg  gamblers  there,  waiting  to  talk  to  my 
father.  They  were  drinking  gin  and  whiskey,  and  I 
remember  marveling  at  their  wonderful  clothes.  Never 
before  had  I  seen  such  waistcoats  or  such  cravats,  and 
their  great,  soft,  light-colored  hats  were  a  revelation  to 
me.  I  particularly  noticed  that  they  all  smoked  long 
black  cigars,  wore  huge  diamonds,  and  talked  in  loud 
coarse  voices. 

Soon  father's  secretary  came  into  the  room.  In  his 
quiet  English  way  he  told  them  that  his  master  did  not 
care  to  see  them  that  night  and  would  talk  to  them  in 
the  morning.  The  races  were  to  be  next  day  and  the 
gamblers  left  the  house  quite  disgruntled.  As  they  went 
out  of  the  door  I  heard  one  of  them  say,  "Never  mind, 
we  '11  get  his  money  to-morrow  I" 

Shortly  before  prayers  that  night  I  told  my  father 
what  this  man  had  said,  but  he  only  smiled  in  his  dry 
way. 

"Don't  worry,  Owen,  my  lad,"  he  said.  "Your  father 
is  not  always  such  a  fool  as  he  might  look.  To-morrow 
night  may  have  another  tale  to  tell!" 

However,  I  went  to  bed  much  troubled  that  night. 
We  seemed  such  country  people  compared  to  these 
flashy  horsemen  from  the  great  city  of  Johannesburg. 
I  tried  to  sleep  though  quite  unhappy  at  the  thought 
that  father  might  be  mistaken,  but  his  quiet  confidence 
somehow  reassured  me  to  a  certain  extent.  My  father 
was  a  very  great  man  to  me — the  greatest  in  the  world — 
great  even  when  compared  to  Oom  Paul  Kruger,  our 

87 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

idoL  It  seemed  impossible  that  his  horse  should  not 
be  the  best  and,  comforted  by  my  faith,  I  finally  fell 
asleep. 

Oh,  the  glories  of  the  next  day,  the  day  of  the  races! 
Even  before  breakfast  we  boys  trudged  to  the  race  track 
and  watched  several  horses  working  out.  Two  of  them 
were  from  Johannesburg,  and  even  their  blankets  failed 
to  hide  the  fact  that  they  were  fast.  In  addition  to  their 
white  trainers,  each  horse  seemed  to  have  almost  a  dozen 
kaffirs  in  attendance,  and  all  about  the  track  were  hun- 
dreds of  black  and  white  men  watching  the  trials. 

On  aU  sides  of  the  track,  also,  could  be  seen  the 
wagons  of  the  Boer  farmers  who  had  trekked  in  to  the 
meet.  Slender  spirals  of  smoke  were  rising  from  each 
group,  showing  that  breakfast  was  being  prepared. 
There  must  have  been  hundreds  of  wagons,  and  the 
whole  territory  about  the  race  track  was  one  great 
camping-ground. 

We  returned  to  the  house  to  find  father  and  Oom 
Tuys  out  in  the  kraal  carefully  examining  our  horses. 
I  remember  how  father  ran  his  hands  lovingly  over  the 
sleek  body  of  "Black  Hand  Tom."  The  horse  would 
allow  few  to  approach  him,  but  he  nuzzled  my  father's 
hand,  as  though  to  say,  "I  'm  fit  for  the  race  of  my  life. 
I  will  not  fail  Slim  GertI" 

After  breakfast,  instead  of  taking  our  horses  to  the 
track,  my  father  had  them  worked  out  along  the  road 
which  ran  by  the  house.  Later  I  learned  that  this  was  a 
disappointment  to  the  gamblers  from  Johannesburg. 

38 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

They  had  hoped  to  see  "Black  Hand  Tom"  on  the  track 
before  the  race,  so  as  to  get  a  line  on  him. 

Shortly  afterward  my  father  and  Oom  Tuys  rode 
over  to  the  track,  and  we  all  trooped  after.  Early  as  it 
was,  crowds  were  beginning  to  gather  and  I  never  saw 
so  many  people  in  my  life.  I  was  surprised  at  the  nmn- 
ber  of  white  men  there.  I  knew  that  there  were  millions 
of  blacks  in  our  country,  but  was  greatly  astonished  to 
see  so  many  of  our  color. 

Father  rode  among  the  wagons  surrounding  the  track, 
greeting  his  friends  and  everywhere  receiving  a  joyful 
welcome.  Each  one  asked  him  about  his  great  horse, 
and  his  answer  invariably  was,  "He  is  ready  to  do  the 
very  best  he  can.  The  rest  is  with  God !"  This  seemed 
to  satisfy  the  Boers,  and  I  know  it  was  all  I  wanted  to 
hear.  I  immediately  announced  to  all  the  lads  with  me 
that  the  race  was  as  good  as  won. 

Oom  Tuys  took  occasion  to  remind  me  of  our  bet  and 
chaffed  me,  saying,  "Now  you  will  never  see  King 
Buno!"  This  made  me  wrathy.  It  was  unspeakable 
that  he  should  doubt  that  father's  horse  could  do  any- 
thing but  win! 

While  at  the  track  I  remembered  a  little  talk  I  had 
planned  to  have  with  Klaas.  Owing  to  an  uncanny 
knack  with  horses,  the  little  beggar  had  been  trained  as 
our  jockey  and  was  to  ride  "Black  Hand  Tom"  in  the 
great  race.  Sibijaan  and  I  returned  to  the  house  and 
looked  him  up.  We  found  him  chumming  with  the 
horse,  and  called  him  out  of  the  stable. 

39 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Now  Klaas  was  smaller  and  lighter  than  either  Sibi- 
jaan  or  myself  and  stood  no  chance  with  us  in  combat 
of  any  sort.  We  took  firm  hold  of  him — Sibijaan  by  his 
arms  and  I  by  his  ears — and  then  I  delivered  my  ulti- 
matum: 

"You  see  all  these  white  men,  Klaas,"  I  said.  "They 
are  thieves.  They  have  come  here  to  steal  all  the  Ou 
Baas's  (Old  Boss's)  money.  You  've  got  to  ride  your 
best  to-day.  'Black  Hand  Tom'  is  the  best  horse. 
He  '11  win  if  you  ride  him  right.  If  you  lose,  Sibijaan 
and  I  will  kill  you  I   Won't  we,  Sibijaan?" 

My  fellow  conspirator  most  emphatically  agreed.  He 
made  motions  that  illustrated  a  neat  and  expeditious 
way  of  cutting  Klaas's  throat  and  of  visiting  other  un- 
pleasant deaths  upon  him.  Klaas  was  properly  im- 
pressed. 

"If  I  do  n't  win  the  race  I  am  willing  to  die !"  he  said, 
and  with  this  understanding  we  returned  to  the  track. 
I  found  my  father  surrounded  by  the  Johannesburg 
gamblers,  and  squeezed  my  way  into  the  group  to  find 
much  betting  going  on.  With  Boer  shrewdness,  father 
was  demanding  and  getting  good  odds.  He  took  the 
stand  that  "Black  Hand  Tom"  had  never  been  raced 
and  had  never  won  a  race,  while  the  horses  of  the  others 
were  tried  campaigners  of  great  reputation.  The  gam- 
blers grumbled,  but  finally  gave  odds,  until  father  stood 
to  win  or  lose  thousands  of  pounds. 

Finally  race  time  came.  I  suppose  there  never  was 
such  a  crowd  as  swarmed  about  that  track.    It  was  about 

40 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

three  quarters  of  a  mile  around,  and  the  entire  circum- 
ference was  lined  with  people.  The  whites  were  all 
grouped  about  the  start  and  finish  line,  while  all  the  re- 
maining space  was  one  deep  belt  of  black  men.  There 
were  literally  tens  of  thousands,  among  them  many 
women. 

The  distance  of  the  race  was  four  times  around  the 
track.  Excitement  was  intense  when  the  horses  came 
out  on  the  track.  It  was  a  perfect  day,  the  sky  cloudless 
and  the  air  like  diamonds  in  its  sparkling  clearness. 
"Black  Hand  Tom"  was  the  last  horse  out,  but  the 
minute  he  appeared,  with  Klass  perched  on  his  back  and 
all  decked  out  in  the  O'Neil  colors,  there  was  a  roar  from 
the  crowd. 

I  was  at  the  starting-line,  Sibijaan  at  my  side,  and 
we  were  fairly  dancing  with  excitement.  A  moment 
later  the  horses — nine  of  them — were  strung  out  along 
the  line  and  the  starting  began.  Three  attempts  were 
made,  our  horse  always  being  the  last  over  the  line. 
This  was  criminal  in  my  eyes,  and  both  Sibijaan  and  I 
shouted  threats  of  sudden  death  to  Klaas. 

On  the  fourth  try  they  were  off  and  the  race  was  on. 
If  I  live  to  be  as  old  as  Queen  Labotisibeni,  I  shall  never 
forget  the  agony  of  that  race!  Round  and  roimd  the 
horses  went,  first  one  and  then  another  in  front.  At  the 
end  of  the  first  lap  "Black  Hand  Tom"  was  last.  We 
shouted  ourselves  hoarse,  hurling  imprecations  at  Klaas. 
At  the  end  of  the  second  lap  our  horse  was  next  to  last, 

41 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

and  then  Sibijaan  and  I  knew  exactly  how  we  would 
despatch  Klaas  as  soon  as  we  could  get  hold  of  him. 

Then  came  the  sensation  of  the  day,  of  the  age!  At 
the  first  turn  of  the  third  lap  "Black  Hand  Tom"  swung 
wide  and  began  to  pass  the  other  horses.  One  by  one  he 
caught  them  and  went  by.  Each  time  he  passed  one  the 
crowd  fairly  roared  its  head  off.  As  they  swept  by  on 
the  beginning  of  the  last  lap  there  were  only  two  horses 
ahead  of  ours,  and  they  seemed  tiring.  At  the  first  turn 
"Black  Hand  Tom"  passed  one  and  then,  on  the  back 
stretch,  went  by  the  other!  The  crowd  fairly  split  the 
heavens.  A  moment  later  "Black  Hand  Tom,"  the 
greatest  horse  in  the  world,  tore  over  the  winning  line  a 
good  three  lengths  in  the  lead!  Absolute  pandemo- 
nium broke  loose.  I  remember  catching  hold  of  Sibijaan 
and  dancing  up  and  down  like  a  lunatic.  Every  one 
seemed  to  be  doing  the  same  thing. 

We  tore  through  the  mob  to  where  our  horse  stood 
entirely  surrounded  by  crazy  Boers  and  as  many  natives 
as  could  get  close.  There  was  father,  quiet  and  self- 
contained,  with  his  silk  hat  on  his  head  at  the  usual  angle. 
He  was  as  undisturbed  as  though  nothing  had  happened 
and  seemed  more  anxious  to  get  out  of  the  crowd  than 
anything  else.  From  all  sides  his  friends  crowded  in  on 
him,  shaking  his  hand  and  patting  the  great  horse. 
Klaas,  still  in  the  saddle,  wore  the  air  of  a  conquering 
hero,  and  some  enthusiastic  Boer  had  presented  him  with 
a  lot  of  money  which  he  held  closely  clutched  to  his  thin 
stomach. 

42 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Father  spied  me  and  smiled  the  ghost  of  a  smile.  He 
reached  out  his  hand,  and  when  I  took  it  said,  "Well, 
you  have  won  your  trip  to  Buno's  ki-aal!"  This  was  the 
first  inkling  I  had  that  he  knew  about  the  bet,  and  later 
I  learned  that  he  had  agreed  to  my  going  because  he 
felt  my  faith  in  him  and  "Black  Hand  Tom"  deserved 
the  trip. 

That  night  there  was  a  glorious  celebration  in  Belfast. 
Great  fires  were  lighted  in  the  streets  and  much  gin  and 
whiskey  was  consumed.  The  kaffirs  danced  until  the 
small  hours  and  their  chants  filled  the  air.  We  boys 
were  part  of  it  all,  and  Klaas  was  the  hero  of  the  hour. 
In  fact,  so  great  a  hero  was  he  that  Sibijaan  and  I  were 
glad  to  bask  in  his  reflected  glory.  The  little  beggar 
fully  enjoyed  his  hour  of  triumph  and  it  was  well  he 
did,  for  we  soon  took  him  down  a  few  pegs  when  we  got 
him  back  to  Rietvlei. 


43 


CHAPTER   IV 

I  leaTe  for  my  first  visit  to  Swaziland — ^Mother  warns  me  about  Oom  Tuys — 
Why  the  Boers  paid  tribute  to  King  Buno — Queen  Labotsibeni,  the 
brains  of  Swaziland — Buno's  visit  to  Oom  Paid  Kruger — Our  reception 
in  Swaziland — Ezulweni,  the  "Valley  of  Heaven" — Buno's  rifle — 
Sibijaan  and  I  explore  by  night. 

ABOUT  a  fortnight  later  Oom  Tuys  and  I  left  for 
Swaziland.  I  shall  always  remember  getting 
ready  for  the  trip.  For  days  and  days  I  added  to  my 
little  outfit,  until  by  the  time  Oom  Tuys  was  ready  to 
start  I  had  accumulated  enough  dunnage  to  fill  a  wagon. 
When  the  bluff  old  man  looked  it  over  he  turned  to  my 
mother  and  said,  "Well,  you  are  going  to  lose  your  son. 
Owen  is  going  to  spend  the  rest  of  his  life  in  Swaziland ; 
he  is  taking  enough  things  to  last  him  for  the  next  hun- 
dred years  1" 

Then  he  calmly  sorted  out  my  kit,  leaving  me  about 
one  tenth  of  what  I  had  intended  taking  along. 

"We  travel  light,  my  boy,"  he  said.  "We  travel  fast 
and  take  but  one  wagon,  and  that  a  little  one." 

A  day  later  we  were  off.  Our  caravan  consisted  of 
Tuys  and  me  on  horses,  a  light  cart  drawn  by  six  mules, 
and  half  a  dozen  kaffir  servants.  Of  course  Sibijaan 
went  with  us,  and  was  elected  to  the  job  of  driving  the 
mules.  The  other  boys  were  foot-passengers,  their  job 
being  to  keep  the  mules  moving  and  do  the  camp  work. 

44 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

My  mother  knew  Oom  Tuys  of  old  and  gave  me  a 
serious  talking  to  the  night  before  we  left. 

"My  son,"  she  said,  putting  her  arms  about  me,  "you 
must  not  follow  Oom  Tuys  too  closely.  He  is  wild  and 
sometimes  as  bad  as  King  Buno  himself.  You  will  see 
many  things  that  we  Boers  would  not  permit  here,  and 
you  must  not  take  these  things  too  much  to  heart.  Re- 
member that  you  are  an  O'Neil,  and  take  good  care  of 
yourself  1"  Then  she  kissed  me  good-by  with  a  fervor 
that  was  quite  unusual.  We  Boers  are  an  unemotional 
people — that  is,  on  the  surface. 

Oom  Tuys's  periodical  visits  to  King  Buno  had  al- 
ways been  a  mystery  to  me.  I  had  heard  that  they  con- 
cerned some  sort  of  a  tribute  to  the  savage  king,  but 
my  father  never  encouraged  my  requests  for  details. 
"That  is  Oom  Tuys's  business,"  he  would  say.  "Ask 
him  why  he  is  the  servant  of  Buno !" 

I  did,  just  as  soon  as  we  were  well  on  our  way.  How- 
ever, I  did  not  use  father's  words.  Even  big  men  hesi- 
tated to  take  liberties  with  Tuys,  and  I  was  only  a  boy. 
It  was  a  wonderful  day,  and  as  we  rode  across  the  veldt 
into  Swaziland  Tuys  told  me  the  whole  story  of  how  he 
became  known  as  "The  White  King  of  Swaziland." 

"Mzaan  Bakoor,  for  I  shall  call  you  that  while  we  are 
in  Swaziland,  just  as  you  shall  call  me  'Nkoos',"  he  said, 
"I  go  each  moon  to  pay  King  Buno  the  tribute.  Oom 
Paul  sends  me,  and  I  always  take  two  thousand  gold 
sovereigns  and  quantities  of  gin  and  champagne." 

4,5 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

This  explained  the  mysterious  cases  in  the  wagon,  the 
contents  of  which  I  had  not  yet  dared  to  ask  about. 

"Buno  is  a  very  great  man,"  Tuys  went  on.  "He  is  a 
great  king  and  has  as  many  warriors  as  the  blades  of 
veldt  grass.  His  impis  are  countless,  and  just  recently 
he  has  married  Tzaneen,  a  princess  of  the  Zulus. 

"Here  is  how  it  happened  that  we  Boers  must  pay  him 
tribute.  His  father,  Umbandine,  built  up  the  Swazi. 
power  until  he  had  enough  warriors  to  be  dangerous 
to  us  and  to  all  the  surrounding  tribes.  Even  the  Zulus 
feared  him.  Now  Buno,  guided  and  advised  by  his 
mother.  Queen  Labotisibeni,  has  kept  the  Swazi  impis 
up  to  the  greatest  possible  fighting  strength,  and  he  is 
the  one  savage  chief  we  Boers  have  to  reckon  with.  He 
is  my  friend,  and  Oom  Paul  depends  upon  me  to  keep 
him  satisfied  and  prevent  him  from  making  war  on  our 
people.  According  to  the  agreement  between  Oom  Paul 
and  Buno,  we  pay  Buno  the  gold  and  gin  each  month, 
and  I  am  the  one  who  brings  it  to  him.  Lately,  how- 
ever, he  has  objected  to  so  much  gold  and  wants  more 
gin.  Buno  says  he  can  only  look  at  the  gold,  but  he  can 
drink  the  gin.  This  time  I  am  taking  an  extra  supply 
of  gin." 

Tuys  explained  to  me  the  politics  of  Swaziland  and 
seemed  to  think  that  Queen  Labotisibeni  was  the  brains 
behind  King  Buno's  administration.  The  wanton  cruel- 
ties of  which  Buno  was  guilty  were  contrary  to  the 
wishes  of  his  mother,  but  she  only  mildly  protested 
against  them,  since  they  helped  to  maintain  the  king's 

46 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

authority.  According  to  Tuys,  death  was  the  punish- 
ment for  all  oif ences,  and  Buno  often  butchered  his  peo- 
ple for  no  reason  at  all. 

A  short  time  before  our  visit  to  Swaziland,  King 
Buno  had  gone  to  Pretoria  to  see  Oom  Paul.  For  some 
time  Buno  had  been  sending  complaints  and  objections 
about  various  matters  to  the  President,  and  Tuys  would 
carry  these  to  Pretoria.  Finally  Oom  Paul  became 
exasperated  and  commanded  Tuys  to  bring  Buno  to 
him. 

"Bring  Buno  here,"  said  Oom  Paul,  "and  I  will  talk 
to  him  like  a  Dutch  uncle.  We  pay  too  much  now,  and 
if  he  does  not  soon  behave  himself,  I  shall  send  a  com- 
mando or  two  into  his  country  and  make  a  new  king 
in  Swaziland!" 

Buno's  visit  to  Pretoria  is  a  classic  in  the  Transvaal 
and  shows  the  kind  of  man  our  old  President  was.  Tuys 
told  Buno  that  Oom  Paul  was  too  ill  to  come  to  visit  him 
and  that  he  begged  that  the  king  of  Swaziland  honor 
him  by  coming  to  Pretoria.  It  took  much  persuasion 
on  the  part  of  Tuys,  for  Buno  thought  he  was  too  im- 
portant a  person  to  visit  Oom  Paul.  Finally  Tuys 
soothed  his  royal  dignity  and  they  started  out  for  Pre- 
toria. 

It  was  a  remarkable  party.  Buno  took  with  him  ten 
thousand  of  the  picked  fighting  men  of  the  household 
troops,  and  these  wore  all  their  savage  finery.  Being  of 
the  royal  impis,  they  wore  the  great  white  headdresses 
and  carried  shields  with  the  king's  mark  emblazoned 

47 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

thereon.  Their  costumes  were  the  last  word  in  savage 
gorgeousness.  Each  man  was  armed  with  the  knob- 
kerrie,  assegai,  knife,  and  shield. 

At  this  time  the  railway  from  Pretoria  to  Delagoa 
Bay  was  under  construction  and  had  already  reached 
Middleburg.  The  party  found  a  special  train  waiting 
for  them  at  this  place  and  Bimo  had  his  own  private  car. 
None  of  the  Swazis  had  ever  seen  a  train  before  and 
their  astonishment  at  the  great  "iron  horse,"  as  they 
immediately  called  the  engine,  was  almost  pathetic. 
When  they  first  saw  the  engine,  seemingly  breathing 
smoke  and  fire,  they  were  terrified,  and  Tuys  had  to  re- 
assure them  to  prevent  a  panic.  Then  a  number  wanted 
to  prostrate  themselves  before  the  engine  and  worship 
it,  so  that  it  was  a  most  difficult  thing  to  prevent  their 
being  run  over.  According  to  the  various  accounts  of 
these  incidents  Tuys  had  his  hands  full.  Buno,  how- 
ever, refused  to  be  much  impressed  with  the  engine  or 
train  and  complained  bitterly  because  he  was  not  given 
enough  gin. 

It  was  a  wonderful  sight  when  the  train  pulled  out  of 
Middleburg.  Buno,  with  Tuys  and  the  royal  party,  was 
in  the  private  coach  behind  the  engine,  and  the  ten 
thousand  warriors  were  packed  in  a  score  of  open  trucks 
behind.  Naturally  they  all  stood,  and  it  was  extraordi- 
nary to  see  the  thousands  of  savages  in  full  dress,  with 
wonderment  and  fear  written  on  their  faces,  as  the  train 
swept  by.  The  trip  lasted  all  night,  and  when  morning 
came  the  train  pulled  into  Pretoria.    At  tlbe  station  a 

48 


j3  ^  V  o 

*3  -*f  t.  C 

■S'S*^ 

«*=a 

•STs's'a 

§  cJ.a 

^  03  O  Q) 

02  03  ^-O 

o£e«- 

*j  eS  03  5 

S^-^  c 

P-M  a;  O 

regii 
nto 
mor 
he  c 

unded  by  a 
rior  dashes 
Sometimes 
Following 

ES  .  . 

e  sur 
len  w 
arms 
wins 

S  °  c  g 

^-S'T-^ 

H 

i2  «  i  — 

O 

SdS2 

m 

Tl 
isibl 

S  CO) 

grea 

J 

< 
o 

t— ( 
Eh 

ing  spear, 
gry  as  pos 
ears  of  hi; 
prowess  , 

< 

•z 

j2  c  a.'" . 

ort  stab 
ade  as  a 
by  the  s 
warrior 

K 

(X. 

O 

h  a  sh 
hen  m 
killed 
of  the 

1^ 

.t;  ^  o  <» 

CO 

^73-^3 

•^§°i 

tf 

°T3=E 

armed 
furiate 
the  bu 
nd  the 

H 

s-s.=  « 

■g  C-M  M 

|i5-a 

*i>-'3 

=^^^g 

cd  by 
bulls 
5 — eit 
more 

n  kill 

The 

choic( 

iport 

^^S^« 

ol=-§ 

jiiif 

K    tf  K-2    OS 

—  C   c3  ~  U 

■B-r  j=  £  Si 

O   OK  3  "^ 

*»    :5^ 

OS  E-o  g 

a>  a>  Qj  ■*.> 

9-^23 

W  o 

^  s 

.  a)  a 

•>^  is  S 

5J  Ja  o 


S  o 


o  " 

g;  a 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

coach  and  pair  of  fine  horses  waited  for  King  Buno  and 
Tuys.  They  got  in,  and  then  Tiiys's  natural  deviltry 
asserted  itself.  He  slyly  poked  the  driver  in  the  ribs 
with  his  revolver  and  commanded  him  to  drive  as  fast  as 
he  could.    A  second  later  they  were  off  at  a  gallop. 

Now  the  doors  of  the  trucks  were  not  yet  opened  and 
the  warriors  were  gazing  in  awe  at  the  station,  the 
largest  building  they  had  ever  seen.  Suddenly  the  cry 
was  raised  that  their  king  was  being  stolen !  They  began 
throwing  themselves  out  of  the  trucks,  shouting  battle- 
cries  and  brandishing  their  knob-kerries  and  assegais. 
There  was  a  wild  rush  to  catch  up  with  the  galloping 
carriage  and  more  than  a  score  of  white  railway  em- 
ployees and  officials  were  killed  in  the  melee. 

Mad  with  fear  that  they  were  losing  their  king,  the 
whole  ten  thousand  of  them  raced  down  the  streets,  and 
Pretoria  thought  it  was  being  captured  by  the  savages. 
Soon,  however,  they  caught  up  with  the  carriage,  and 
shortly  after  fell  into  orderly  array  and  marched  on  to 
Oom  Paul's  house. 

The  old  President  had  risen  early,  as  he  always  did, 
and  was  sitting  on  the  stoop  of  his  simple,  flat-roofed 
home,  drinking  coffee  and  smoking  his  pipe.  The  car- 
riage drove  up  and  the  warriors  fell  into  regimental 
formation  as  Buno  and  Tuys  got  out.  As  they  started 
for  the  little  gate  the  ten  thousand  men  gave  the  royal 
salute,  their  feet  coming  down  on  the  roadway  with  the 
sound  of  thunder,  their  shrill  whistle  echoing  from  the 
low  eaves  of  the  house. 

49 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Oom  Paul  did  not  move  from  his  low  chair.  Pipe  in 
mouth,  he  looked  beyond  Tuys  and  Buno,  just  as  though 
they  had  been  ordinary  kafiirs.  There  was  an  embar- 
rassing moment — that  is,  it  was  embarrassing  to  the 
visitors — and  then  the  old  man  slowly  took  his  pipe  out 
of  his  mouth  and  spoke.  I  have  never  heard  what  he 
said,  but  according  to  accounts  he  made  good  his  threat 
to  talk  to  Buno  "like  a  Dutch  uncle". 

"He  gave  us  the  very  devil,"  is  the  way  Tuys  tells 
about  it.  "Oom  Paul  told  us  both  that  we  were  chil- 
dren, and  bad  children  at  thatl  He  said  that  he  was 
minded  to  soundly  spank  us  both,  and  he  was  so  fierce 
about  it  that  I  thought  he  was  going  to  do  it." 

The  outcome  of  the  interview  was  that  King  Buno 
went  home  a  chastened  and  contrite  monarch  and  there 
were  no  more  complaints  from  Swaziland.  This  shows 
the  extraordinary  character  of  Oom  Paul  and  explains 
why  he  was  so  highly  regarded  by  all,  Boers  and  English 
alike. 

Trekking  with  Oom  Tuys  was  a  thoroughly  delightful 
adventure.  He  had  planned  the  trip  into  Swaziland  so 
that  at  night  we  made  camp  at  some  Boer  farm,  and 
everyivhere  he  was  received  with  open  arms.  Each  night 
there  was  a  little  jollification  in  which  Tuys  was  the 
center  of  interest.  He  always  pushed  me  forward,  and 
the  simple  Boers  made  much  of  me,  all  of  them  know- 
ing my  father  and  having  the  highest  regard  for  him. 
Although  we  traveled  fast  there  was  little  hardship.    It 

50 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

was  after  the  rains  and  the  whole  veldt  was  a  bright 
green,  with  the  little  thorn  trees  in  bloom. 

We  found  the  Vaal  River  fordable  and  the  going 
was  easy.  Whenever  we  were  unable  to  reach  a  farm- 
house for  meals,  we  fared  well  on  our  own  biltong  and 
rusks.  The  biltong,  so  much  eaten  in  the  Transvaal,  is 
dried  beef  which  is  usually  cut  into  strips  and  chunks 
and  eaten  without  cooking.  Rusks  are  the  biscuits  all 
Boers  make,  and  we  ate  well,  having  enough  of  both. 

Shortly  before  reaching  the  Swaziland  border  we 
were  met  by  several  fine  looking  Swazi  warriors.  I 
immediately  noted  their  superiority  to  the  kaffirs  I  had 
known.  They  were  about  six  feet  tall,  perfectly  pro- 
portioned, and  carried  themselves  with  a  swinging  dig- 
nity quite  unusual  among  the  Mapors  and  other  natives. 

Oom  Tuys  introduced  me  to  them  and  they  met  me  as 
man  to  man,  giving  me  the  same  salute  they  had  ac- 
corded my  uncle.  They  told  Tuys  that  their  king  was 
waiting  for  him  and  that  he  had  planned  a  celebration 
in  our  honor. 

"You  hear  that,  Mzaan  Bakoor?"  Tuys  asked.  "We 
are  going  to  be  royal  guests  and  you  will  see  the  real 
Swaziland.  Watch  me  and  do  as  I  do  in  all  things,  and 
you  shall  have  much  to  tell  when  we  get  back  to 
Rietvlei." 

As  we  came  up  the  wide  trail  to  the  border  of  Swazi- 
land, I  saw  several  hundred  warriors  at  the  top  of  the 
hill.  As  soon  as  we  came  close  to  them  they  began  to 
wave  their  knob-kerries  and  shields.     Down  the  slope 

51 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

came  the  deep  bass  of  their  voices  as  they  chanted  a  wel- 
come, the  sound  being  suddenly  cut  off  short  as  they 
brought  their  feet  down  in  the  heavy  stamp  they  use 
when  dancing.  They  were  our  escort — all  picked  men 
of  the  household  impi — and  their  leader  was  a  noted 
warrior  who  was  an  old  friend  of  Tuys. 

After  a  short  halt  for  this  officer  to  deliver  a  brief  ad- 
dress of  welcome,  Tuys  ordered  our  party  to  proceed. 
I  noted  that  he  treated  the  officer  with  scant  courtesy, 
and  he  explained  this  by  saying,  "Here  I  am  a  king; 
he  is  lucky  if  I  even  look  at  him!" 

A  little  later  we  dropped  into  the  Valley  of  Heaven. 
This  is  really  the  most  delightful  valley  in  Swaziland. 
It  is  well  watered,  and  thousands  of  the  natives  have 
their  kraals  there.  Swaziland  is  a  broken  country,  alter- 
nating between  veldt  of  from  two  to  five,  and  even  six 
thousand  feet,  and  there  are  small  rivers  everywhere, 
flowing  from  west  to  east.  Each  of  these  rivers  has  cut 
out  its  own  valley,  but  the  Valley  of  Heaven  is  the  most 
fertile  and  beautiful  of  all.  Trees,  sometimes  in  clumps 
but  more  often  singly,  are  found  along  the  banks  of  the 
rivers  and  each  kraal  is  practically  surrounded  by  big 
and  little  ones. 

Our  progress  down  the  Valley  of  Heaven  was  prac- 
tically a  parade.  At  each  kraal  or  village,  a  village  be- 
ing a  collection  of  kraals,  we  would  be  greeted  by  hun- 
dreds of  warriors  and  children.  The  women  would 
usually  remain  in  the  background,  but  were  quite  in 
evidence.    Young  as  I  was,  I  could  not  help  noting  that 

52 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

they  were  the  finest  looking  savages  I  had  ever  seen. 
These  women  have  perfectly  proportioned  bodies  and 
stand  erect,  with  their  heads  thrown  back.  They  are 
the  women  of  a  proud  nation,  and  they  show  it.  I  par- 
ticularly noticed  their  splendid  shoulders,  these  and 
their  erect  carriage  being  due  to  carrying  all  burdens  on 
their  heads. 

At  each  village  the  local  chief  would  offer  us  tswala, 
or  kaffir  beer,  and  we  were  lucky  to  be  important  enough 
to  be  able  to  refuse  to  drink.  If  we  had  taken  all  that 
was  offered,  we  would  have  been  drowned  long  before 
the  end  of  the  first  day  in  the  Valley  of  Heaven.  The 
fact  that  our  escort  consisted  of  picked  warriors  from 
the  royal  troops  and  that  Oom  Tuys  was  known  to  be 
the  intimate  of  their  king  made  it  permissible  for  us  to 
refuse  to  associate  with  the  little  chiefs  along  the  line 
of  march. 

Camp  on  the  last  night  before  reaching  the  royal 
kraal  at  Zombode  was  pitched  in  the  valley,  and  we 
saw  the  sun  set  over  the  plateau  on  which  King  Buno 
made  his  headquarters.  After  supper  that  night  Oom 
Tuys  confided  to  me  a  great  secret. 

"Buno  has  asked  me  a  thousand  times  to  bring  him 
a  rifle,"  he  said,  "but  always  I  have  refused.  As  you 
know,  the  Swazis,  like  other  kaffirs,  are  not  allowed  to 
have  guns.  Death  is  the  punishment  we  deal  out  to 
those  who  sell  rifles  to  these  savages.  Now  Buno  has  his 
heart  set  on  owning  a  rifle,  and  the  last  time  I  saw  him 
I  promised  that  I  would  get  him  one. 

53 


ADVENTURES  IX  SWAZILAND 

"In  the  cart  I  have  a  jNIauser  with  about  five  thousand 
cartridges,  and  the  outfit  is  for  Buno.  You  will  want 
to  come  to  Swaziland  many  times  in  the  future,  so  I  am 
going  to  make  Buno  your  friend  for  life.  I  am  going 
to  allow  you  to  present  the  ]Mauser  to  him ! 

"No  one  wiU  know  how  he  got  it  and  you  will  be  as 
big  a  man  in  Swaziland  as  I  am,  once  you  have  given 
the  rifle  to  Buno.  Now  what  do  you  think  of  your 
Uncle  Tuys?" 

Naturally,  I  was  very  grateful,  since  I  had  already 
begun  to  feel  the  lure  of  Swaziland  and  dearly  wanted 
to  be  a  little  king  there  myself. 

That  night  was  memorable  for  several  reasons.  Soon 
after  dark  Sibijaan  and  I  climbed  up  the  trail  a  little 
way  and  looked  up  the  valley.  Here  and  there  we  could 
see  fires  burning  at  the  various  kraals  and  quite  often 
the  wind  brought  us  the  pungent  smell  of  wood-smoke. 
The  sky  was  clear  as  it  only  is  in  South  Africa  and  the 
stars  glittered  with  all  the  hard  brilliance  of  diamonds. 
However,  we  did  not  remain  long  admiring  the  beauties 
of  the  Valley  of  Heaven. 

Down  below  us  we  suddenly  saw  what  seemed  to  be 
a  dark  cloud  of  men  coming  up  the  road.  Discreetly 
we  hid  in  the  brush  along  trail  and  watched  them  go 
by.  They  were  warriors  in  full  costume,  their  faces 
hard  and  set  in  the  dim  light.  There  was  only  the  sound 
of  their  feet  on  the  road  and  their  silence  was  unnerving. 
The  Swazi  warrior  chanting  and  dancing  in  the  sun- 

54 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

light  is  awesome  enough,  but  when  he  becomes  a  silent 
swift -moving  shadow  of  the  night,  he  is  terrifying.  Par- 
ticularly is  this  true  when  you  are  only  a  small  boy  and 
know  that  the  shadow  is  fully  armed  and  is  deplorably 
careless  with  his  weapons ! 

Sibijaan  was  shaking  with  terror,  and  as  soon  as  the 
shadows  passed  on  we  started  back  to  camp.  Neither 
of  us  spoke.  We  did  n't  need  to.  We  knew  that  we 
wanted  Oom  Tuys  and  without  a  word  started  for  him. 

A  moment  later  we  saw  another  band  of  warriors 
coming  swiftly  up  the  trail,  so  again  we  hid.  As  we 
dived  into  our  little  camp  a  third  band  passed.  I  was 
very  glad  to  find  Oom  Tuys  smoking  by  the  fire,  and 
for  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  realized  that  a  fire  is  a 
friendly  thing. 

Tuys  noted  that  we  had  been  hurrying  and  asked 
the  reason.    I  told  him  about  the  shadows  on  the  trail. 

"It  is  well  that  you  hid,"  he  said.  "It  would  have 
been  better  yet  if  you  had  not  been  so  foolish  as  to 
wander  about  at  night.  Don't  you  know  that  sudden 
death  is  always  walking  abroad  at  night  in  Swaziland? 
Have  I  not  told  you?" 

Then  he  explained  that  practically  all  Swazis  travel 
at  night,  whenever  possible,  so  as  to  avoid  the  heat. 
He  said  that  those  we  had  met  were  going  to  Zombode, 
as  the  king  had  issued  a  call  for  his  warriors  to  attend 
the  celebration  in  our  honor.  That  night  I  waked  sev- 
eral times,  cold  with  an  unnamed  fear,  and  was  com- 

55 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

forted  by  seeing  the  massive  bulk  of  Tuys  sleeping 
nearby.  His  steady  breathing  seemed  a  guarantee  of 
safety  and  I  would  drift  back  to  sleep  feeling  that  the 
shadows  on  the  trail  were  far  removed  from  me. 


56 


CHAPTER  V 

Sheba's  Breasts  and  the  Place  of  Execution — Zombode  and  the  royal  kraal 
of  Queen  Labotsibeni — Common  and  royal  ground — ^We  reach  King 
Buno's  kraal  at  Lebombo — Gin  for  the  king — Buno,  the  regal  savage — 
I  present  a  rifle  to  the  king — Lomwazi  takes  me  to  Labotsibeni — The 
old  queen  is  worried  over  Tuys's  activities — The  shooting  match  with 
the  king — Tuys  and  I  manage  to  miss  a  few  human  targets. 

NEXT  morning  we  waked  to  find  several  hundred 
more  warriors  surrounding  our  camp.  A  more 
important  chief  was  in  command,  and  when  Tuys  had 
made  a  brief  but  leisurely  toilet,  he  talked  to  him.  Again 
Tuys  was  given  kingly  honors,  which  he  accepted  with 
marked  condescension.  This  chief  informed  him  that 
King  Buno  was  waiting  for  him  and  had  sent  greetings 
to  "his  white  brother."  Many  dramatic  gestures  ac- 
companied this  announcement,  and  I  was  quite  im- 
pressed with  the  manner  of  the  chief.  He  was  a  fine 
figure  of  a  savage  and  had  a  great  number  of  scars 
on  his  forehead,  showing  that  he  had  killed  many 
enemies. 

We  broke  camp  shortly  after  and  started  on  the 
short  climb  to  the  top  of  the  plateau.  With  our  escort 
we  made  a  party  of  about  five  hundred,  and  I  felt  very 
proud  to  be  riding  with  Oom  Tuys  at  the  head  of  so 
imposing  a  procession. 

When  we  reached  the  top,  Tuys  reined  in  and  pointed 

57 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

across  the  Valley  of  Heaven  to  where  two  rounded 
peaks  rose  about  a  thousand  feet  above  the  river. 

"You  see  those?"  he  asked.  "Those  mountains  are 
Shebalp  Breasts  and  are  known  every\vhere  in  Swazi- 
land. Beyond  them  is  the  Place  of  Execution.  If  you 
look  closely,  you  can  see  that  sharp  cliff  to  their  left." 

The  rounded  peaks  looked  exactly  like  a  woman's 
breasts  and  were  very  striking.  There  are  many  tales 
about  them  and  they  are  supposed  to  be  the  home  of 
spirits  of  all  kinds.  I  could  see  the  cliff  Tuys  spoke  of. 
It  appeared  to  be  a  sheer  drop  of  many  feet. 

The  plateau  was  much  like  the  high  veldt  in  our 
country.  Except  for  the  tall  grass  and  a  few  rocks 
raising  their  rugged  tops  here  and  there,  it  was  abso- 
lutely barren.  These  rocks  look  like  little  black  islands 
in  a  vast  rolling  sea  of  dull  brown.  Back  of  this  are 
the  bare  mountains,  rugged  and  naked  in  their  rocky 
barrenness. 

We  came  to  a  little  stream,  which  appeared  to  head 
up  in  these  hills;  then  suddenly  a  great  collection  of 
huts  seemed  to  spring  up  out  of  the  plain.  Hundreds 
of  poles  projected  above  them,  and  soon  we  saw  a  num- 
ber of  kraals.  There  were  a  few  patches  of  trees,  their 
green  being  the  only  relief  from  the  dull  brown  of  the 
scene.  We  seemed  to  come  suddenly  on  the  settlement 
because  its  huts  and  kraals  were  of  the  same  color  as 
the  grass,  which  gave  them  a  fine  camouflage. 

This  was  Zombode,  formerly  the  royal  kraal  of  King 
Umbadine. 

58 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"Queen  Labotsibeni,  his  royal  widow,  lives  there 
now,"  Tuys  told  me.  "All  Umbadine's  other  widows 
live  there,  too.  I  think  there  are  about  twenty  of  them. 
When  we  get  close  you  will  find  that  the  big  mountain 
behind  is  already  throwing  its  shadow  over  the  place. 
It  will  be  cooler  then." 

Soon  we  came  to  the  shadow  and  it  was  very  pleasant 
to  get  out  of  the  scorching  sun.  This  mountain  was  a 
sort  of  natural  fort  and  protected  Zombode  from  at- 
tacks from  the  west.  East  of  Zombode  was  a  rolling 
grass-covered  plain. 

Close  to  the  outlying  kraal  was  a  small  stream.  We 
did  not  cross  this. 

"That  marks  the  line  between  the  common  and  royal 
ground,"  Tuys  explained.  "We  will  follow  it  and  push 
on  to  Lebombo,  Buno's  kraal.  If  we  wished  to  call  on 
Labotsibeni,  we  would  wait  here  until  we  received  per- 
mission to  cross  this  water.  Then  we  would  camp  on 
the  royal  ground  and  she  would  send  for  us." 

By  this  time  I  could  see  scores  of  Swazis  running  out 
of  their  kraals  to  inspect  us.  A  chief,  accompanied  by 
a  score  or  so  of  warriors,  came  to  meet  us.  We  kept  on, 
and  he  caught  up  to  us  by  running.  Tuys  paid  no  at- 
tention to  him  and  advised  me  to  do  the  same.  One  of 
our  servants  told  him  that  "The  White  King"  was 
going  to  visit  his  brother,  King  Buno,  and  I  looked 
back  to  see  the  chief  and  his  men  watching  us  as  we 
went  on. 

About  three  or  four  miles  farther  on,  over  the  same 

59 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

barren  brown  country,  we  came  to  another  stream.  This 
is  about  midway  between  Zombode  and  Lebombo.  Le- 
bombo  came  out  of  the  ground  exactly  like  Zombode 
and  was  situated  in  exactly  the  same  way  at  the  foot 
of  a  high  mountain,  facing  the  East.  It  was  simply 
another  Zombode. 

"That 's  where  Buno  lives,"  said  Tuys.  "The  big 
kraal  in  the  center  is  his,  and  all  the  little  ones  belong 
to  his  indunas.  Each  of  the  indunas  has  a  number  of 
wives  and  is  the  leader  of  an  impi  of  about  a  thousand 
men.  King  Buno  has  twenty-six  wives  and  I  don't 
know  how  many  children." 

As  we  went  on  I  could  see  the  people  coming  out 
to  meet  us,  the  small  boj^s  running  swiftly  and  shouting 
as  they  ran.  Here  also  there  was  a  little  stream  sepa- 
rating the  common  from  the  royal  ground.  By  the  time 
we  reached  this  dividing  line  several  indunas  had  come  to 
meet  us,  and  we  forded  the  water  and  pitched  camp  on 
the  royal  ground. 

Tuys  went  to  the  wagon  and  soon  appeared  with  a 
quart  of  gin.  This  he  gave  to  the  most  imposing  of  the 
chiefs,  who  seemed  to  be  a  sort  of  special  representative 
of  the  king. 

"Tell  the  great  king  that  his  white  brother  comes  with 
presents  and  the  tribute,"  he  said.  "Tell  him  that  our 
king,  Oom  Paul,  sends  greetings  and  prays  that  his 
health  is  good  and  that  he  will  live  forever!" 

"Nkoos,  it  shall  be  done!"  the  induna  answered,  sa- 
luting with  his  shield  and  knob-kerrie. 

60 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Then  he  retired  swiftly  to  the  royal  kraal. 

Less  than  ten  minutes  later  he  came  back  and  said, 
"The  great  King  Buno,  ruler  of  Swaziland  and  leader 
of  countless  warriors,  bids  you  approach!" 

Oom  Tuys  stepped  into  our  tent  and  called  me  inside. 
He  gave  me  the  rifle  and  handed  Sibijaan  a  heavy  bag 
of  cartridges.  Then  he  loaded  a  dozen  of  our  escort 
with  more  cartridges  and  bottles  of  gin.  Thus  loaded 
down,  we  set  out  to  call  on  the  most  powerful  and  sav- 
age king  in  South  Africa. 

After  passing  the  triple  walls  of  the  kraal  we  found 
King  Buno  standing  in  front  of  the  royal  palace,  or 
rather,  hut.  He  shook  hands  warmly  with  Tuys,  who 
handed  him  the  gold.  I  noted  how  easily  Buno  handled 
it.  He  was  a  strong  man.  While  he  talked  with  Oom 
Tuys  I  had  an  opportunity  to  look  him  over. 

King  Buno  was  well  over  six  feet  and  must  have 
weighed  at  least  two  hundred  and  thirty  or  forty  pounds. 
He  was  very  deep  chested  and  had  a  body  like  an  ox. 
His  legs  were  well  shaped  and  very  muscular.  Of 
course  he  was  too  fat,  but  this  was  explained  by  the  fact 
that  the  Swazis  consider  corpulence  a  sign  of  aristocracy 
and  are  proud  to  "carry  weight." 

Without  doubt,  Buno  was  the  most  powerful  savage 
I  had  ever  seen.  He  was  every  inch  a  king,  and  he 
knew  it.  While  I  was  admiring  him  he  suddenly  turned 
and  looked  at  me.  His  eyes  were  the  crudest  I  have 
ever  looked  into,  and  it  came  over  me  with  a  rush  that 
he  must  be  quite  as  black  as  he  was  painted.    I  was  only 

61 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

a  boy,  but  I  could  feel  the  cruel  brutality  of  this  savage 
the  minute  he  looked  at  me. 

Tuys  motioned  me  to  come  forward. 

"O  King,  this  is  Mzaan  Bakoor,  my  nephew,  who  has 
come  all  the  way  from  Rietvlei  to  bring  you  the  rifle 
you  desire!"    Such  was  his  introduction. 

Buno  shook  hands  with  a  grip  like  a  vise  and  took 
the  Mauser  from  me.  He  seemed  to  gloat  over  the 
weapon  for  a  moment,  and  then  spoke : 

"The  king  thanks  you,  Mzaan  Bakoor,  little  white 
chief,"  he  said,  and  his  voice  was  deep  and  melodious. 
"You  are  the  near  relation  of  my  friend;  you  shall  be 
the  friend  of  the  king.  All  my  subjects  shall  be  your 
slaves !" 

Then  he  fondled  the  rifle  a  moment,  throwing  it  to 
his  shoulder  and  going  through  the  motions  of  shooting. 

"It  is  a  good  rifle,"  he  said,  using  the  native  term  of 
"mroer,"  "and  to-day  we  shall  try  it.  Already  I  know 
how  to  shoot,  and  this  afternoon  we  shall  have  a  shoot- 
ing match.    I  shall  show  you  how  the  king  can  shoot!" 

There  was  a  little  more  conversation  about  the  rifle 
and  Buno  was  much  pleased  at  the  quantity  of  cart- 
ridges we  had  brought.  He  was  as  delighted  with  the 
Mauser  as  a  child  with  a  new  toy.  Later  that  day  I 
found  myself  regretting  that  the  weapon  was  not  a  toy. 

At  length  Buno  said  something  to  Tuys  that  I  did  not 
hear.  The  latter  turned  to  me  and  said,  "I  have  some 
business  to  transact  with  the  king.  You  go  back  to  our 
camp  and  wait  for  me." 

62 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

I  would  have  given  much  to  know  what  this  business 
was.  Tuys  and  Buno  had  been  in  some  queer  deals 
together  and  I  felt  that  they  were  planning  another. 
Both  were  reckless  and  lawless,  and,  backed  by  the  thou- 
sands of  Buno's  impis,  they  were  able  to  do  anything 
they  had  a  mind  to,  at  least  in  Swaziland. 

Tuys  and  Buno  dropped  to  their  knees  and  crawled 
into  the  royal  hut,  and  I  returned  to  our  camp.  Sibi- 
jaan  was  as  curious  as  I  was  and  made  an  attempt  to 
pass  in  the  rear  of  the  king's  hut  with  the  intention  of 
hearing  something.  He  did  not  get  far  and  came  back 
with  speed,  for  he  had  run  into  a  six-foot  Swazi  war- 
rior with  an  evil  eye  who  appeared  to  be  on  guard. 

Boylike,  I  was  hungry  when  we  reached  camp  and 
was  glad  to  see  that  we  were  to  have  fresh-killed  beef 
for  dinner.  I  was  munching  a  rusk  when  Sibijaan 
hopped  into  the  tent,  his  eyes  flashing  with  excitement. 

"O  Mzaan  Bakoor,  there  is  an  induna  asking  for  you!'* 
he  said.  "He  says  he  comes  from  Queen  Labotsibeni 
and  must  see  you !" 

Outside  I  found  a  young  chief  who  looked  very  much 
like  Buno.  He  had  the  same  great  body  and  hard  eyes 
and  carried  himself  with  the  same  "swank"  aifected  by 
the  king. 

"Mzaan  Bakoor,  Httle  white  induna,"  he  said  in  the 
same  rumbling  melodious  bass  so  common  among  the 
Swazis,  "I  am  Lomwazi,  brother  of  the  king  and  son  of 
Queen  Labotsibeni.     My  mother  would  see  you  and 

63 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

has  asked  that  I  beg  you  to  visit  her.  She  waits  for 
you!" 

Realizing  that  it  was  not  fitting  that  an  O'Neil  should 
run  at  the  command  of  a  kaffir  queen,  I  told  Lomwazi 
that  I  would  go  when  "the  shadow  of  that  tree  strikes 
the  tent."  I  estimated  this  would  be  in  about  half  an 
hour,  and  I  was  right.  Lomwazi,  great  induna  that  he 
was,  squatted  outside  the  tent  until  I  was  ready.  He 
evidently  expected  that  I  might  offer  him  gin  or  some 
present,  but  I  decided  it  would  be  poor  policy  to  do  so, 
since  I  intended  giving  gin  to  Labotsibeni. 

As  soon  as  Sibijaan  told  me  that  the  time  was  up  I 
went  out  and  found  Lomwazi  with  an  escort  of  half  a 
dozen  warriors  waiting  for  me.  Sure  that  Buno's 
friendship  would  protect  us,  I  followed  Lomwazi  with- 
out hesitation.  As  we  went  along  I  noticed  the  defer- 
ence paid  us  and  realized  that  Lomwazi  must  be  a  power 
in  the  land. 

We  found  Queen  Labotsibeni  in  a  nearby  kraal,  which 
she  used  when  visiting  Lebombo.  It  was  a  sort  of 
guest  kraal  placed  at  her  disposal  by  King  Buno.  There 
were  huts  sufficient  for  all  her  retinue,  among  which 
were  some  of  the  other  widows,  whom  she  ruled  with  a 
heavy  hand. 

Labotsibeni  was  very  stout  and  tall,  even  when  sit- 
ting down,  as  she  was  when  I  first  saw  her.  She  had  an 
intelligent  face,  with  the  same  eyes,  though  not  so  cruel, 
as  Buno  and  Lomwazi.  Her  beautifully  shaped  hands 
were  much  in  evidence,  and  I  do  n't  recall  having  ever 

64 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

seen  cleaner  or  better  manicured  fingers.  Like  the  other 
women  in  Swaziland,  she  was  practically  naked,  except 
for  a  covering  draped  from  the  waist.  Her  hair  was  piled 
high  on  the  top  of  her  head  and  was  bound  so  that  it 
looked  like  a  melon.  When  she  spoke  I  noted  that  her 
teeth  were  perfect.  This,  of  course,  is  the  rule  in  Swazi- 
land, since  these  people  take  care  of  their  teeth  from 
earliest  childhood.  They  never  finish  eating  without 
carefully  rubbing  their  teeth  with  carcoal  or  some  fine 
sand.  If  the  Swazis  have  no  fixed  religious  observances, 
they  certainly  are  religious  in  the  care  of  their  teeth. 

Labotsibeni  had  not  lost  her  sight  this  first  time  I 
saw  her,  and  she  looked  me  over  for  a  full  minute  before 
speaking.  Then  she  motioned  to  me  to  be  seated  and 
addressed  me : 

"Nkoos,  little  white  induna,"  she  said,  "you  come  to 
Pungwane  (the  native  name  for  Swaziland)  as  the 
friend  of  our  great  white  leader.  Oom  Tuys  is  the 
trusted  friend  of  my  son,  the  king,  and  you  shall  be 
trusted  likewise.  Our  friend  always  brings  presents; 
thus  do  we  know  that  his  heart  is  true  to  us !" 

I  accepted  the  hint  and  produced  the  quart  bottle  of 
gin  I  had  brought  for  her.  She  grasped  it  greedily, 
and  the  interview  was  interrupted  until  she  had  gulped 
down  what  I  estimated  to  be  nearly  a  pint.  Her  ca- 
pacity for  gin  was  extraordinary,  I  learned  later,  al- 
though all  the  Swazis  will  drink  alcoholic  liquors  with- 
out restraint.    They  have  absolutely  no  sense  with  gin 

65 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

or  whiskey,  and  only  stop  guzzling  when  the  supply  runs 
out  or  they  are  completely  paralyzed. 

After  taking  her  drink,  Labotsibeni  wiped  her  lips 
on  a  leaf — one  of  a  pile  she  had  at  her  side — and  then 
spoke : 

"Oom  Tuys  comes  to  pay  the  tribute,"  she  observed, 
"but  my  son  and  he  have  other  plans  they  will  carry 
out.  You  are  close  to  the  great  white  man.  What  are 
these  plans?" 

I  then  realized  what  she  was  after.  Of  course  I  knew 
nothing  about  what  new  deviltry  Buno  and  Tuys  were 
hatching,  but  I  realized  that  it  would  not  do  for  me  to 
appear  to  be  on  the  outside.    I  would  lose  prestige. 

*'Oom  Tuys  and  the  king  plan  great  things  for  the 
people  of  Swaziland,"  I  solemnly  assured  her.  "It  is 
not  for  me  to  say  what  they  will  do.  When  we  have 
left  Swaziland  the  king  will  tell  you  everything.  Until 
then  I  must  remain  silent." 

This  cryptic  statement  did  not  seem  to  satisfy  the 
old  queen  and  she  several  times  reverted  to  her  question 
in  our  subsequent  conversation.  Lomwazi  was  also 
present  at  the  interview,  but  only  spoke  to  agree  with 
his  mother.  Behind  her  in  the  shadow  of  the  hut  sat 
several  of  her  maids.  They  watched  their  mistress 
keenly  and  hastened  to  assist  her  when  she  rose  as  a 
signal  that  the  interview  was  over. 

The  impression  Labotsibeni  gave  me  was  that  she 
was  very  cunning  and  intelligent.     I   could  readily 

66 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

understand  the  common  belief  that  she  was  the  "brains 
behind  the  throne"  in  Swaziland. 

Tuys  was  waiting  for  me  at  our  camp  and  was  much 
interested  to  learn  that  I  had  been  to  see  the  queen 
mother.  He  was  amused  to  hear  that  she  was  anxious 
to  know  what  business  he  and  Buno  were  planning. 

"So  she  is  worried,  eh?"  he  observed.  "Well,  that  *s 
good  for  her!  She  has  kept  Buno  tied  to  her  apron- 
strings  too  long,  and  I  suspect  she  is  playing  into  the 
hands  of  the  Britishers.  We  must  keep  Buno  as  a 
friend  of  our  people.  If  we  don't,  we  shall  find  the 
English  behind  the  Swazis  in  the  next  war." 

After  dinner,  during  which  Tuys  told  me  more  stories 
about  Buno  and  his  cruelty,  we  attended  the  shooting 
match.  I  don't  suppose  there  was  ever  another  like  it. 
It  was  a  most  terrible  exhibition  of  savage  beastiality 
and  ought  to  have  been  called  the  "murder  match,"  in- 
stead of  a  shooting  contest. 

When  we  arrived  at  Buno's  kraal  we  found  him  walk- 
ing excitedly  up  and  down,  the  rifle  in  his  hands.  Stand- 
ing near  him  were  a  score  or  more  of  his  indunas,  and 
we  were  struck  at  once  by  their  look  of  apprehension. 
Lined  up  on  either  side  of  the  wide  roadway  leading  to 
the  royal  kraal  were  thousands  of  warriors.  More  than 
a  dozen  impis  were  in  line,  every  man  in  his  full  war 
costume.  Their  knob-kerries  were  held  at  the  ready, 
their  shields  across  their  bodies,  and  each  had  shifted 
his  assegai  to  the  position  used  in  battle. 

The  lines  of  savage  warriors  stretched  away  from  the 

67 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

kraal  for  hundreds  of  yards.  It  was  the  first  time  I 
had  ever  seen  the  impis  of  the  king  on  parade  and  it 
was  a  most  impressive  sight.  There  was  a  slight  breeze 
and  the  white  plumes  on  their  heads  danced  in  the  sun- 
light. What  struck  me  most  was  the  splendid  build  and 
stature  of  these  men.  They  were  all  six  feet  or  more 
and  their  black  skins  fairly  shone.  Most  of  them  wore 
leopard-skins  caught  about  the  waist  and  on  one 
shoulder. 

My  rapid  inspection  was  broken  by  the  king.  He 
greeted  us  vociferously,  and  I  immediately  saw  that  he 
was  on  fire  with  the  gin  he  had  drunk.  No  sooner  did 
he  raise  his  hand  in  salutation  than  the  impis  gave  the 
royal  salute.  Their  deep  shout  ended  with  the  crash  of 
twenty  thousand  feet  brought  down  together.  The 
earth  fairly  shook. 

I  realize  now  that  this  salute  was  a  tribute  to  the 
cruelty  of  the  ages.  In  just  such  a  manner  did  the 
gladiators  salute  Nero  with  their  "Morituri  te  saluta- 
mus !"  A  few  moments  after  the  salute  I  realized  that 
these  men  were  also  about  to  die. 

"Come  on,  Oom  Tuys,  come  and  let  the  king  see  how 
well  you  can  shoot!"  Buno  shouted.  "I  have  provided 
the  only  targets  worthy  of  your  skill — you  who  are  noted 
for  your  shooting  among  a  race  of  white  men  who  have 
conquered  all  with  their  rifles!  I  will  shoot  first,  and 
then  you  shall  beat  me !" 

Then  he  turned  suddenly  to  me. 

"And  you,  too,  Mzaan  Bakoor,  little  induna!    You, 

68 


PRINCESSES  AND  THEIR  MAID  TAKING  A  MORNING  BATH 


YOUNG  PRINCESSES  AMIABLY  ENGAGED  IN  HAIR-DRESSING 

These  are  of  exceptionally  high  birth  and  of  remarkable  beauty.  Either  ^-oulcl  probably  be 
worth  fifty  head  of  cattle  and  could  only  be  bought  for  that  number.  Women  are  the  standard 
of  currency  among  the  Swans,  the  average  low-caste  woman,  if  young  and  sound  in  linib  being 
worth  five  head  of  cattle.    The  price  of  women  increases  according  to  their  birth  and  beauty 


SWAZI  GIRLS 
This  picture  shows  the  large  navel  which  is  common  to  most  women,  particularly  to  those 

of  aristocratic  birth 


PUDANA,  FAVORITE  TO  THE  OLD  QUEEN  LABOTSIBENI 

He  is  a  charming  little  fellow  and  the  most  privileged  personality  in  all  Swaziland,  being 

the  only  male  allowed  to  attend  all  interviews  and  conferences 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

too,  shall  shoot  against  the  king!  First  I  will  shoot, 
then  Oom  Tuys,  and  then  you.  Each  wiU  shoot  this 
many  shots,"  and  he  held  out  four  clips  of  five  cartridges 
each. 

The  indunas  gathered  about  and  I  could  see  the  hor- 
ror in  their  faces.  They  knew  what  was  coming,  but 
even  then  I  did  not  suspect.  Tuys  looked  startled  and 
gazed  at  Buno  as  though  he  could  not  understand, 
Down  the  lines  the  plumed  heads  still  nodded  and  after 
a  moment  there  was  silence. 

The  savage  king  slipped  a  clip  into  his  Mauser,  the 
metallic  click  intensified  by  the  silence.  He  raised  the 
rifle,  sighting  down  first  one  line  of  warriors  and  then 
the  other.  The  next  instant  a  shot  rang  out  and  a 
plumed  Swazi  pitched  forward  and  lay  writhing  in  the 
sunlight.  As  Buno  threw  another  cartridge  into  place, 
two  warriors  stepped  out  and  stabbed  the  fallen  warrior. 

Four  more  shots  rang  out,  and  at  each  a  plumed  head 
came  down,  with  shield  and  assegai  crashing  as  they 
struck  the  ground.  Each  warrior  was  stabbed  as  he 
lay,  the  killers  quietly  stepping  back  into  the  ranks. 

It  was  the  most  ghastly  spectacle  I  had  ever  attended. 
We  Boers  have  always  had  to  fight  for  our  lives  and 
farms,  so  that  sudden  death  was  no  novelty  to  me.  But 
such  a  slaughter  as  this! 

Buno  completed  his  twenty  shots  and  made  three 
misses.  These  angered  him  and  he  shouted  out  the 
equivalent  of  "I  '11  get  you  next  time!" 

Then  came  Tuys's  turn.    He  had  been  thinking  rap- 

69 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

idly  and  I  had  a  faint  hope  that  he  would  find  some 
way  out. 

"O  King,  it  is  not  fitting  that  your  warriors  should 
die  by  my  rifie,"  he  said  hurriedly.  "You  are  king  and 
their  lives  are  yours ;  I  am  but  your  guest  and  it  is  not 
right  that  brave  men  should  be  killed  by  one  who  loves 
only  peace.  Let  us  shoot  at  other  targets.  Let  us  kill 
cattle  so  that  there  may  be  a  feast  to-night." 

Buno's  face  darkened.  His  bloodshot  eyes  flashed 
and  for  a  second  I  thought  he  would  strike  Tuys. 

"The  king  commands!  Buno,  king  of  the  Swazis, 
commands!"  he  shouted  in  a  hoarse  voice.  "Shoot! 
Shoot  and  kill  more  than  I  did,  if  you  can!" 

I  was  holding  Tuys's  rifle  and  he  came  over  to  where 
I  was  standing.  I  was  so  sick  with  it  all  that  I  hardly 
heard  him  when  he  spoke  to  me  hurriedly  in  Dutch. 

"We  must  go  through  with  it,"  he  whispered.  "Kill 
as  few  as  you  can.  Shoot  them  in  the  head  and  they  '11 
die  quickly!" 

A  second  later  Tuys  raised  his  rifle.  Each  shot  that 
hit  meant  death;  there  was  no  need  of  stabbing  when 
he  shot.  Buno  taunted  him  at  each  shot,  and  in  spite 
of  being  the  best  shot  in  the  Transvaal  Tuys  was  able 
to  miss  as  many  as  possible  without  arousing  the  sus- 
picions of  the  bloody  king. 

When  he  had  finished  my  turn  came.  I  could  hardly 
hold  the  heavy  rifle.  Buno  fairly  abused  me,  for  he  was 
raging  by  this  time.    One  taunt  I  well  remember. 

"O  Mzaan  Bakoor,  you  of  the  great  ears!"  he  shouted, 

70 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

his  voice  now  a  hoarse  growl.  "Show  the  king  that  you 
can  shoot  as  well  as  you  hear.  Oom  Tuys  cannot  shoot. 
You  be^t  him!" 

So  unsteady  was  I  that  I  could  not  have  held  the  rifle 
firmly  if  I  had  wanted  to.  I  shot,  and  never  were 
twenty  shot  so  many.  My  score  was  much  worse  than 
Tuys's,  but  the  memory  of  that  murder  match  will 
never  die  I 

Buno  was  jubilant  over  his  victory.  He  seemed  to 
think  that  he  had  shamed  the  white  men  before  his  peo- 
ple and  his  indunas  also  gloried  in  his  victory.  I  think 
they  were  rather  glad  that  they  had  not  been  asked  to 
serve  as  targets. 

I  thought  we  were  done  with  killing  for  the  time  being 
and  wanted  to  return  to  camp  and  rest.  I  was  suffering 
from  shock  and  felt  that  I  must  lie  down.  But  this  was 
not  the  end.  Buno  was  not  yet  satisfied.  He  challenged 
Tuys  to  shoot  at  running  targets!  Tuys  tried  to  talk 
him  out  of  the  idea  and  suggested  that  they  had  better 
go  and  get  some  gin.    But  Buno  would  not  be  put  off. 

He  led  the  way  to  a  point  a  short  distance  from  the 
kraal,  where  there  were  clumps  of  bushes  and  long  grass. 
Warriors  were  made  to  dodge  in  and  out  of  these 
bushes  while  their  king  potted  them.  This  required 
much  better  shooting,  and  the  men  turned  and  twisted 
in  and  out  of  the  brush  like  mad  things.  Buno  found 
that  he  could  not  kill  enough  to  satisfy  his  brutish  desire 
and  soon  tired  of  the  "sport."  Tuys,  however,  had  to 
take  his  turn,  and  he  was  able  to  miss  even  more  fre- 

71 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

quently  than  before.  Sick  as  I  felt,  I  was  rather  amused 
at  Tuys  missing  these  poor  savages.  I  have  often  seen 
him  stop  an  antelope  in  full  flight,  and  we  have  a  say- 
ing that  "only  a  bullet  travels  faster  than  a  spring- 
bok." 


72 


CHAPTER  VI 

Tuys  orders  me  to  remain  in  camp  during  the  celebration — I  visit  the  royal 
kraal — Feasting,  dancing,  and  combats  to  the  death — Butchery  of 
young  women — Buno  and  Tuys  wrestle  for  gold — How  Tuys  became 
rich — A  "legal  execution"  in  Swaziland — The  unfaithful  wife  expiates 
her  sin — How  Tuys  shoots — ^Father  gathers  information  by  mental 
suggestion. 

1  FIN  ALLY  returned  to  our  camp  much  upset  by 
the  orgy  of  slaughter  and  sorry  that  I  had  forced 
Tuys  to  take  me  with  him  on  this  trip.  He  remained 
with  Buno  until  time  for  supper  and  then  came  into 
camp  to  eat.  I  noticed  that,  although  he  was  ordinarily 
a  big  eater,  Tuys  had  little  appetite  that  night.  How- 
ever, he  drank  quite  heavily  and  left  soon  after  dusk 
with  a  number  of  bottles  of  gin.  As  he  went  he  advised 
me  to  remain  in  camp. 

"You  are  not  used  to  this  country,  lad,"  he  said, 
roughly  but  kindly.  "To-night  there  will  be  a  big  cele- 
bration and  much  drunkenness.  When  the  king  is 
drinking  he  is  likely  to  be  careless  and  things  may 
happen  that  you  would  not  like  to  remember.  You  stay 
in  camp  and  I  'U  be  back  before  long." 

I  promised  Tuys  to  do  as  he  asked,  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  I  was  very  curious  to  see  what  might  take 
place.  As  night  came  on  hundreds  of  fires  were  lighted 
and  I  could  hear  the  Swazis  beginning  to  sing.  Every 
now  and  then  shouts  reached  us,  and  there  seemed  to 

73 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

be  every  indication  that  it  would  be  a  wild  night.  Curi- 
osity impelled  me  to  send  Sibijaan  out  on  a  scouting 
expedition.  He  was  also  eaten  up  with  curiosity,  but 
wanted  me  to  come  along.  However,  I  still  remembered 
my  promise  to  Tuys  and  would  not  go. 

After  a  little  Sibijaan  returned,  his  eyes  wide  with 
excitement. 

"Thousands  and  thousands  of  warriors  are  at  the 
royal  kraal,"  he  announced.  "There  are  great  fires 
everywhere  and  every  one  is  drinking  tswala.  The  war- 
riors are  dancing  and  the  king's  fire  is  the  biggest  of  all. 
The  witch-doctors  are  there,  too,  and  are  going  to  make 
magic  to-night!" 

I  was  intensely  interested  in  all  this.  It  seemed  a 
shame  that  I  was  going  to  miss  it.  On  second  thoughts 
I  decided  that  I  was  foolish  to  have  made  the  long  trek 
into  Zombode  if  I  did  not  see  the  whole  celebration. 
I  wanted  to  be  able  to  tell  those  at  home  all  about  it,  so 
I  decided  to  sneak  out  of  camp  and  watch  a  while. 

Playing  at  war  had  taught  me  to  hide  as  much  as 
possible,  and  soon  I  slipped  out  of  the  tent  and  started 
for  the  royal  kraal.  There  seemed  to  be  thousands  of 
natives  all  about  me,  each  band  gathered  around  a  fire. 
They  were  dancing  and  singing  and  eating,  particularly 
eating.  The  Swazi  always  eats  whenever  possible,  and 
a  number  of  cattle  had  been  slaughtered  to  provide  a 
feast  in  honor  of  Oom  Tuys. 

I  crept  closer  to  the  royal  kraal  and  soon  could  see  the 
glow  from  the  king's  fire.    It  was  surrounded  by  hun- 

74 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

dreds  of  huts  and  many  kraals,  but  I  managed  to  get 
close  enough  to  see  the  flames.  A  dense  mass  of  war- 
riors were  on  three  sides  of  the  fire,  and  on  the  other 
I  could  discern  Buno  and  Tuys.  All  the  warriors  were 
dancing  and  chanting,  and  it  was  an  awe-inspiring  sight. 
In  a  little  while  the  dancing  stopped  and  two  warriors 
sprang  before  the  king  and  began  to  fight.  I  was  close 
enough  to  see  their  actions  and  hear  the  blows  when 
knob-kerrie  struck  shield  with  a  hollow  thump. 

The  fight  was  short.  One  suddenly  fell,  struck  down 
with  a  cunning  blow  from  his  opponent's  knob-kerrie, 
and  a  second  later  I  saw  the  winner  stab  the  prostrate 
figure  again  and  again  with  his  assegai.  A  moment  later 
another  pair  fought,  and  this  battle  ended  as  did  the 
other  with  the  death  of  the  loser.  There  were  several 
more  fights,  each  ending  fatally.  At  each  victory  wild 
shouts  would  go  up  from  the  bloodthirsty  audience.  For 
a  small  boy  it  was  a  thrilling  show. 

After  the  last  combat  there  was  a  pause.  Soon  the 
murmuring  of  the  expectant  thousands  died  down  and 
I  felt  that  they  were  waiting  for  more  excitement.  A 
moment  later  a  number  of  girls,  all  naked,  were  led  out 
from  behind  the  royal  hut.  They  were  lined  up  in  front 
of  Buno  and  Tuys,  and  I  could  see  the  witch-doctor 
talking  to  the  king.  This  lasted  a  few  minutes  and  then 
the  former  began  to  dance,  doing  what  might  be  called 
the  "Dance  of  Death." 

Suddenly  he  halted,  then  dived  at  one  of  the  girls 
and  threw  her  roughly  to  her  knees.     The  others  fell 

75 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

back  hurriedly  and  several  warriors  caught  hold  of  the 
girl  and  stretched  her  on  the  ground.  Another  man 
joined  the  group  and  the  girl  began  to  shriek,  her  voice 
seeming  to  echo  from  hut  to  hut.  It  was  a  shriek  of 
utter  despair,  and  I  could  feel  myself  tremble. 

The  man  stood  high  above  the  girl  and  raised  his  right 
hand  above  his  head.  I  could  see  the  flash  of  steel,  for 
he  held  a  great  curved  knife.  A  moment  he  stood  thus, 
the  girl  shrieking  all  the  while.  The  crowd  seemed  to 
catch  its  breath  and  I  felt  as  though  I  should  choke. 
Down  flashed  the  knife,  and  the  victim  shrieked  louder 
and  more  shrilly  than  ever.  It  was  enough !  I  turned 
and  fled  blindly.  I  don't  know  how  I  got  there,  but 
I  blundered  into  camp  shaking  like  a  leaf  and  threw 
myself  on  my  blankets. 

Next  morning  Tuys  told  me,  quite  casually,  that 
Buno  had  entertained  him  by  having  some  girls  cut  open 
while  they  still  lived.  I  then  knew  that  I  had  not  been 
dreaming.  Despite  Tuys's  advice,  I  had  seen  something 
I  "would  not  like  to  remember."  Tuys  told  me  of  other 
things  that  happened  at  the  celebration,  and  I  am  thank- 
ful I  did  not  see  them.  They  cannot  be  told,  but  for 
utter  cruelty,  cruelty  of  the  most  depraved  and  bestial 
kind,  they  are  without  equal. 

That  day  only  the  women  were  about  until  nearly 
noon.  The  king  and  his  warriors  were  sleeping  off  the 
debauch  of  the  night  before.  Shortly  after  midday 
Tuys  took  me  with  him  to  the  royal  kraal,  where  we 
found  Buno  showing  little  evil  effects  of  the  orgy.    I 

76 


g2:S 

-^^  c— « 

•sg* 

-O  O  SjB 

C  0.S 

S  a-3 

2-^-a 

4)  ea«3 

«  3/1 

ii2  o 

:S  >  B 

the  ba 
ng  indi 
consist 
spear 

O  M-w  *i> 

g 

side 
alien 
e  firs 
shor 

< 

t.j3J3  C 

►J 

1^^" 

•?  C     ■J= 

CO 

< 

«§i-s 

C-l 

upo 
ile-gr 
pha 
ow,  ' 

s:gsz 

3 

ments,  dra 
nto  the  nii( 
ed  into  thr 
the  death 

►-J 

^ 

H 

O 

•S-.-w  K 

s-six 

t.  «T3c 

>^ 

o^olH 

< 

<«-£S^ 

<^ 

C  >-  o3  S 

a 

—  «^,s 

H 

^^s^ 
•i-3??^ 

•  «^  « 
^  c  2  A 


J3  4)  ^  »j 

"^  «.  a  t 
s  o  o  S 

o  S  f 
■C  a    - 


c5.a 


ill 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

noticed  that  Tuys  wore  his  great  leather  hunting-coat 
with  wide  pockets,  and  I  was  surprised  at  this  because 
it  was  a  warm  day.    However,  I  soon  learned  the  reason. 

Buno  was  very  agreeable  and  even  joked  with  me 
about  my  poor  shooting  of  the  day  before.  He  little 
knew  how  proud  I  was  that  I  had  shot  badly.  Tuys  and 
he  were  on  the  best  of  terms  and  joked  with  one  another, 
each  boasting  of  his  strength.  Finally  Buno  ended  the 
pleasantries  with  a  challenge. 

"Let  us  go  to  the  rock,  Oom  Tuys,'*  he  said,  "and 
we  '11  soon  see  who  is  the  strongest  man  in  Swaziland. 
This  time  I  know  I  can  throw  you,  and  you  will  make 
small  profit  out  of  this  trip." 

"That  remains  to  be  seen,  O  King,"  Tuys  warned 
him.  "I  feel  stronger  than  ever  to-day,  but  it  seems  to 
me  that  you  are  quite  shaky.  Don't  you  think  you  'd 
better  wait  a  day  or  two  before  tackling  me  ?" 

"No,  no!  Now  is  the  time!"  declared  Buno  most 
emphatically.  "If  you  cannot  wrestle  any  better  than 
you  shot  yesterday,  I  shall  have  little  trouble  in  throwing 

you." 

This  was  all  very  interesting  to  me.  I  felt  that  I 
would  like  to  be  big  enough  to  wrestle  Buno  and  break 
his  neck.  However,  he  and  Tuys  seemed  to  be  very 
joyful  over  the  coming  match  and  there  was  no  ill  feel- 
ing between  them. 

After  Tuys  and  Buno  had  had  several  drinks,  we  all 
started  out  for  the  rock.  I  had  heard  of  this  rock  before. 
It  was  a  great  flat-topped  slab  on  which  Buno  was  ac- 

77 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

customed  to  sleep  during  the  hottest  hours  of  the  day. 
The  Swazis  call  it  "The  King's  Couch,"  and  Buno  would 
bask  on  it  while  the  sun  blazed  down  on  his  naked  body 
with  all  the  fire  of  mid-summer. 

Tuys  had  several  of  his  servants  with  him,  each  one 
carrying  a  small  but  very  heavy  canvas  sack.  I  asked 
him  what  these  were,  but  he  told  me  to  wait  and  I  would 
see.  The  rock  was  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the 
royal  kraal,  and  we  soon  reached  it. 

Then  came  the  unexpected,  which  invariably  hap- 
pened where  Tuys  was  concerned.  We  climbed  upon 
the  rock  and  while  Buno  and  the  rest  of  us  looked 
on,  Oom  Tuys  slit  the  canvas  sacks  and  poured  two 
thousand  sovereigns  on  the  rock ! 

The  gold  made  quite  a  large  pile  and  shone  brightly 
in  the  warm  sun.  Tuys  counted  it,  with  Buno  seeming 
to  keep  careful  check  on  him.  Finally  the  count  was 
finished  and  they  agreed  that  it  was  all  there — ^two 
thousand  glittering  gold  pieces ! 

"Now  we  shall  wrestle  for  it,"  said  Buno,  pointing  to 
the  gold.  "We  '11  soon  see  who  is  the  better  man,  who 
is  the  strongest  man  in  Swaziland.  Come  on,  Oom 
Tuys  I" 

Tuys  waved  to  me  to  get  off  the  rock,  and  we  jumped 
down  to  the  ground.  It  was,  perhaps,  the  strangest 
sight  I  had  yet  seen.  There  stood  those  two  great  men, 
waiting  for  an  opportunity  to  get  a  favorable  grip. 
Presently  they  began  to  circle  round  and  round,  each 

78 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

trjang  to  catch  hold  of  the  other.  The  pile  of  gold  lay 
between  them. 

Suddenly  Buno  rushed  at  Tuys.  Tuys  stepped  to  one 
side  and  jostled  him  as  he  went  by.  Without  changing 
position,  Tuys  reached  do\Mi  and  grabbed  up  two  hand- 
fuls  of  gold.  He  was  shoving  it  into  the  pockets  of  his 
leather  coat  when  Buno  was  upon  him.  Buno  forced 
him  back  and  grabbed  up  some  of  the  gold,  which  he 
shoved  into  his  loin-cloth. 

They  were  very  strong  men  and  the  wrestling  was 
the  roughest  imaginable.  Each  time  one  gained  an 
advantage  he  would  grab  for  the  gold.  I  soon  saw  that 
Tuys  was  getting  the  better  of  it.  His  pockets  were 
sagging  with  gold,  while  Buno,  being  practically  naked, 
had  no  place  to  store  what  he  was  able  to  seize.  The 
contest  finally  ended  with  both  flat  on  the  rock,  locked 
in  each  other's  arms.  They  tussled  for  a  time  and,  as 
neither  could  gain  the  advantage,  decided  to  quit.  Both 
were  exhausted  and  hardly  able  to  get  to  their  feet. 
However,  they  were  the  best  of  friends,  although  Tuys 
had  most  of  the  gold. 

Then  I  understood  the  saying  among  the  Boers  that 
Tuys  would  soon  be  a  rich  man  if  Oom  Paul  continued 
to  send  him  with  the  monthly  payments  to  King  Buno. 

There  was  only  a  small  celebration  that  night,  al- 
though Tuys  spent  the  evening  with  the  king  and  much 
gin  was  drunk.  Tuys  returned  early  to  camp  and  told 
me  that  we  would  visit  the  Place  of  Execution  the  next 

79 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

day  and  then  return  to  Rietvlei.     I  went  to  sleep  full 
of  anticipation. 

We  broke  camp  early  next  morning.  I  had  expected 
that  we  would  accompany  Buno  to  the  cliff  beyond 
Sheba's  Breasts,  but  Tuys  told  me  that  the  king  and 
his  impi  had  left  during  the  night.  All  Swazis  walk 
whenever  they  travel,  keeping  up  a  steady  pace  that 
covers  much  ground.  When  we  started  for  the  Place 
of  Execution,  Buno  and  his  warriors  were  at  least  fif- 
teen or  twenty  miles  ahead  of  us. 

Tuys  gave  orders  that  our  party  should  camp  in  the 
Valley  of  Heaven  while  he  and  I  pushed  on  and  caught 
up  with  the  king.  It  was  nearly  noon  before  we  saw 
them  climbing  the  slopes  of  Sheba's  Breasts.  There 
seemed  to  be  several  thousand  in  the  king's  party.  In 
a  little  while,  by  hard  riding,  we  caught  up  with  them. 
There  were  two  full  impis,  in  their  midst  a  number  of 
naked  savages  without  arms  or  headdresses.  I  asked 
Tuys  about  these  men. 

"They  are  prisoners,"  he  informed  me.  "We  are 
going  to  see  them  die.  That  is  why  we  are  climbing 
these  infernal  hills.  Beyond  Sheba's  Breasts  we  have 
another  mountain  to  climb  and  then  we  shall  reach  the 
Place  of  Execution.    Let 's  hurry  and  catch  Buno!" 

We  found  the  king  at  the  head  of  his  impis,  accom- 
panied by  several  of  the  indunas,  striding  along  over 
ground  that  gave  even  our  horses  trouble.  He  greeted 
Tuys  affectionately  as  usual  and  had  a  pleasant  word 
for  me. 

80 


J 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Tuys  asked  him  why  the  prisoners  were  going  to  be 
executed. 

"They  have  had  their  trial,"  he  said,  "and  they  are 
all  guilty.    They  must  die!    I  have  said  it!" 

That  seemed  to  settle  the  matter,  and  I  asked  Tuys 
about  the  trial  and  how  it  had  taken  place.  From  his 
long  and  intimate  acquaintance  with  Swaziland  and 
its  customs  he  was  able  to  tell  me  all  I  needed  to  know. 

"Every  moon  there  is  a  court  at  Zombode,"  he  in- 
formed me.  "The  indunas  are  the  jury  and  decide 
whether  the  prisoner  is  guilty  or  not.  Prisoners  are 
brought  before  them  charged  with  stealing,  non-pay- 
ment of  debts,  disloyalty  to  the  king,  and  countless 
other  things,  including  witchcraft.  When  the  indunas 
have  heard  a  case  they  bring  in  a  verdict  of  guilty  or 
innocent,  and  then  the  king  passes  sentence.  My  friend, 
Buno,  always  decides  that  death  is  the  proper  punish- 
ment, and  allows  the  person  bringing  the  charge  to  take 
the  possessions  of  the  prisoner  after  he  has  had  first  pick. 
Many  of  those  who  will  be  executed  to-day  would  only 
receive  a  whipping  if  they  were  in  our  country,  instead 
of  Swaziland.  But  Buno  has  no  sympathy  with  law- 
breakers and  I  think  he  rather  enjoys  the  executions." 

After  passing  Sheba's  Breasts  we  went  down  a  steep 
trail  to  a  little  valley,  and  then  climbed  the  sharp  ascent 
to  the  Place  of  Execution.  From  the  Breasts  to  the 
top  of  the  cliff  is  almost  a  two-hour  trek.  On  the  top 
is  a  small  plateau.    From  this  to  the  bottom  is  a  sheer 

81 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

drop  of  more  than  five  hundred  feet.  At  the  bottom  is 
a  short  slope  of  broken  rock. 

The  impis  were  drawn  up  in  column  facing  the  edge, 
with  Buno  and  his  indunas  in  front.  We  had  left  our 
horses  at  the  top  of  the  trail  and  now  joined  the  king's 
party.  After  pacing  up  and  down  for  a  few  moments 
Buno  turned  and  addressed  his  warriors.  He  told  them 
that  the  prisoners  had  forfeited  their  lives  on  account 
of  their  wickedness  and  it  was  only  just  that  they  should 
die.    He  ended  in  this  fashion : 

"But  the  king  is  merciful.  These  jackals  ought  to  be 
killed  by  torture.  Instead,  I,  Buno  the  King,  have 
decreed  that  they  shall  die  after  the  time-honored  cus- 
tom of  our  people !" 

While  he  spoke  I  watched  the  prisoners.  There  were 
about  forty  of  them,  and  every  one  held  his  head  high, 
as  though  not  afraid  to  die.  Each  bore  himself  proudly, 
more  like  a  victor  than  one  about  to  die  a  fearful  death. 

When  Buno  had  finished  there  was  a  slight  stir  among 
them  and  one  was  left  standing  alone.  With  his  eyes 
straight  in  front  of  him,  his  body  erect,  he  walked  swiftly 
forward.  In  a  second  he  had  reached  the  edge.  Throw- 
ing up  his  arms,  he  leaped  forward  and  was  gone ! 

One  after  another  the  others  followed.  There  was 
no  hesitation,  no  drawing  back.  It  was  terrible,  yet 
glorious!  These  savages,  with  no  promise  of  a  here- 
after which  included  a  Valhalla  or  Heaven,  went  to  their 
death  like  heroes. 

When  the  last  one  had  gone  the  silent  tension  was 

82 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

broken  by  the  rustling  of  shields  and  shuffling  of  feet. 
The  king  then  felt  impelled  to  make  another  address.  He 
had  got  as  far  as,  "Thus  do  I,  the  king,  destroy  the 
enemies  of  my  people — "  when  there  came  a  violent 
commotion  and  a  woman's  cry. 

Through  the  warriors  dashed  a  young  and  handsome 
woman.  She  wore  nothing,  and  in  that  brief  moment 
I  could  see  from  the  lines  in  her  face  that  she  had  suf- 
fered much. 

Tuys  and  the  king  leaped  forward  to  intercept  her, 
but  were  too  late.  She  threw  up  her  hands  with  a  shriek 
and  went  over  the  edge! 

Tuys  and  I  were  much  excited  by  this,  but  Buno  and 
his  indunas  seemed  to  be  rather  annoyed.  Buno  ex- 
plained that  women  had  done  this  before  and  seemed 
to  regard  their  action  as  a  desecration  of  the  Place  of 
Execution.  After  many  questions  Tuys  found  out  all 
about  it  and  explained  to  me. 

"This  was  new  to  me,"  he  said,  as  we  climbed  down 
from  the  cliff,  "and  I  thought  I  knew  all  there  was  to 
know  about  the  Swazis.  But  I  never  before  heard  about 
women  throwing  themselves  off  the  Place  of  Execution. 

"Mzaan  Bakoor,  this  is  how  it  is.  You  know  the 
Swazis  are  very  strict  with  their  women.  If  a  wife,  no 
matter  if  she  be  one  of  thirty  or  forty  wives,  has  any- 
thing to  do  with  any  man  but  her  husband,  her  life  is 
forfeited.  Also  the  child,  if  there  be  one,  must  die. 
If  there  is  no  child,  she  dies  alone.  It  is  the  husband's 
right  to  kill  the  unfaithful  wife.    If  he  does  so,  no  one 

83 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

has  anything  to  say  and  he  is  not  held  for  murder.  But 
he  can  do  worse  than  kill  his  wife.  He  can  refuse  to 
kill  her,  and  then  she  becomes  an  outcast  and  the  prey 
of  any  one.  She  may  even  be  killed  by  her  people,  for 
there  have  been  cases  where  Swazi  women  have  killed 
an  unfaithful  wife  when  the  husband  refused  to  slay  her. 

"Always,  if  she  can  escape,  the  woman  will  take  to 
the  hills.  There  her  condition  is  as  bad  as  it  can  be. 
She  has  to  live  on  berries  and  what  game  she  can  catch, 
and  her  life  is  miserable.  She  is  an  outcast,  and  men 
who  are  caught  going  to  her  in  the  hills  share  her  degra- 
dation. 

"This  woman  who  died  to-day  was  the  youngest  wife 
of  a  little  chief  who  refused  to  kill  her  when  he  found 
that  she  was  faithless.  She  escaped  to  the  hills  some 
weeks  ago  and  lived  the  life  of  a  hunted  beast.  Finally 
she  must  have  made  up  her  mind  to  end  it  all.  It  is 
fortunate  for  her  that  she  had  not  been  taught  by  the 
missionaries  that  she  had  a  soul!" 

That  is  the  moral  code  of  Swaziland.  In  all  the  years 
I  have  known  the  Swazis  I  have  never  heard  of  its  being 
broken  without  the  death  penalty.  However,  civiliza- 
tion will  some  day  reach  into  Swaziland  and  then  this 
code  will  disappear.    That  will  be  the  end  of  the  Swazis. 

We  reached  camp  to  find  the  long  shadows  of  the 
setting  sun  dropping  across  the  Valley  of  Heaven.  Buno 
bade  Tuys  an  affectionate  farewell  and  the  impis  gave 
us  the  royal  salute  as  they  started  up  the  hill  for 
Lebombo. 

84 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

This  was  the  first  time  I  saw  King  Buno,  and  he  leit 
me  memories  that  nothing  can  ever  efface.  I  saw  him 
again  next  year  and  was  in  Lebombo  when  he  died  and 
Queen  Labotsibeni  was  appointed  regent. 

Nothing  much  happened  on  our  return  journey  to  the 
Valley  of  Reeds,  except  that  Oom  Tuys  showed  me  how 
he  could  shoot.  During  the  second  day's  trek  we  ran  up 
on  the  high  veldt  for  a  space  and  jumped  some  spring- 
bok. They  sprang  up  suddenly  out  of  the  brown  grass, 
as  they  always  do,  and  went  off  like  a  streak  of  light. 

After  one  or  two  had  escaped,  Tuys  told  me  to  kill 
the  next. 

"Let 's  see  if  you  can  shoot  like  a  Boer,"  he  said, 
bantering  me.  "Let 's  see  if  you  would  starve  to  death 
if  you  were  lost  on  the  veldt!" 

A  few  moments  later  I  had  my  chance.  My  Mauser 
rested  across  my  saddle  when  the  antelope  jumped,  and 
a  second  later  I  blazed  away.  I  made  three  perfectly 
clean  misses.  Looking  back,  I  realize  that  the  heavy 
military  rifle  was  too  much  for  me — it  was  too  weighty. 

Tuys  said:  "Poor  Mzaan  Bakoor,  you  will  die 
hungry.    Now  watch  me  get  the  next!" 

And  he  did.  His  rifle  was  in  its  sheath,  barrel  under 
his  leg  and  stock  alongside  the  pommel  of  the  saddle. 
I  never  saw  quicker  action.  The  unlucky  springbok 
seemed  to  rise  with  the  motion  of  Tuys's  arm  as  he 
snapped  his  Mauser  out  of  its  case  to  his  shoulder,  all 
in  one  motion.    On  its  fourth  or  fifth  jump  the  antelope 

85 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

met  the  dum-dum  bullet  and  dropped.  Its  back  was 
broken  and  the  knife  did  the  rest. 

"That  is  the  way  a  Boer  shoots!"  Tuys  boasted.  "If 
you  miss  your  meat,  you  go  hungry.  Your  rifle  must 
follow  the  springbok  when  he  jumps,  and  you  get  him 
at  the  top  of  his  leap.  He  cannot  change  direction  in 
the  air  and  you  pull  your  trigger  softly  so  that  your  aim 
is  not  broken.  If  you  jerk,  as  you  did  a  minute  ago, 
you  miss.    Remember  that,  lad !" 

As  we  rode  into  Rietvlei  on  the  last  day  Tuys  gave 
me  a  serious  talking  to.  He  was  worried  over  what  I 
had  seen  at  Lebombo. 

"You  know  that  we  have  seen  some  things  at  Buno's 
kraal  that  must  not  be  told,"  he  cautioned  me.  "The 
British,  and  even  our  own  people,  would  be  much  ex- 
cited if  they  heard  that  you  had  given  a  rifle  to  Buno, 
They  would  hold  you  and  me  accountable  for  the  men  he 
killed  in  the  shooting  match.  Also,  they  would  ask 
many  questions  about  the  women  who  were  killed  that 
night  I  made  you  stay  in  camp.  They  would  think  that 
the  gin  we  gave  Buno  made  him  do  these  things,  and  we 
would  have  much  trouble. 

*'You  must  not  know  anything  about  these  things. 
When  you  tell  about  your  trip,  you  must  only  tell 
things  that  will  not  make  trouble.  If  you  don't,  I  will 
never  take  you  with  me  again.  What 's  more,  I  '11  tell 
Buno,  and  he  will  kill  you  if  you  ever  go  to  Swaziland 
again! 

"Slim  Gert  will  ask  you  questions,  and  your  mother, 

86 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

too.  If  any  of  your  brothers  are  at  home,  they  will 
want  to  know  about  your  trip.  Now  remember,  you 
must  only  tell  the  things  that  are  safe  to  tell." 

He  also  advised  me  to  threaten  Sibijaan  with  every- 
thing under  the  sun  if  he  talked  too  much.  His  own 
servants  he  was  not  afraid  of — they  had  been  with  him 
before  and  knew  what  would  happen  to  them  if  they 
talked.  I  told  Sibijaan  what  to  expect  if  he  talked,  and 
he  promised  to  tell  nothing.  He  kept  his  promise  about 
as  well  as  might  have  been  expected  of  a  kaffir. 

Mother  and  father  were  at  home  when  we  reached 
Rietvlei,  and  were  very  glad  to  see  me  back.  I  was 
glad  to  again  look  out  on  the  peaceful  green  fields  of  our 
wonderful  farm,  but  keenly  disappointed  that  I  dared 
not  give  a  true  account  of  our  adventures.  It  was  some 
story  for  a  small  boy  to  have  to  bottle  up ! 

After  supper  my  father  sent  for  me,  and  I  went  to 
his  office  in  the  wing  of  the  house  which  he  used  for 
administrative  work.  I  had  my  doubts  about  the  inter- 
view that  I  knew  was  about  to  take  place,  because  my 
father  has  a  way  of  getting  the  truth  when  he  wants  it. 
He  is  not  known  as  "Slim  Gert"  for  nothing. 

On  the  top  of  his  desk  lay  a  sjambok,  or  rawhide 
whip.    It  caught  my  eye  and  he  saw  me  look  at  it. 

"Now,  son,  tell  me  about  your  trip,"  he  said.  "What 
did  you  see?  What  happened?  Yesterday  a  Swazi 
came  here  and  said  that  Buno  had  made  a  celebration  for 
Tuys  and  you."  As  he  asked  the  question  his  keen  eyes 
searched  my  soul. 

87 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

I  was  in  an  awful  pickle.  If  I  told  the  truth,  Tuys 
would  be  my  enemy  for  life.  If  I  lied  to  my  father, 
he  would  never  forgive  me  and  I  'd  hate  myself  forever! 
The  cruel  whip  did  not  enter  into  my  calculations,  be- 
cause my  father  never  struck  us.  It  could  not  concern 
me. 

I  hesitated  for  a  moment  only  and  then  sacrificed  my 
further  chances  of  going  with  Oom  Tuys  to  Swaziland. 
I  told  the  truth.  Father  listened  and  seemed  to  be 
checking  up  what  I  said.  He  asked  one  or  two  ques- 
tions which  refreshed  my  memory,  and  I  told  him  every- 
thing, 

"Thank  you  for  so  accurate  an  account,  son,"  he 
said,  when  I  had  finished.  "I  wanted  to  be  sure  that 
what  I  had  heard  was  so.  Sibijaan  was  here  a  little 
while  ago  and — "  He  picked  up  the  whip  and  tossed 
it  into  a  drawer. 

Next  day  I  saw  Sibijaan.  I  asked  him  why  he  had 
told  father  about  the  killings  at  Lebombo. 

"Ou  Baas  holds  the  sjambok  in  his  hand  when  he 
talks  to  me,"  he  said  quite  simply.  "He  knew  lots  about 
Lebombo  already.  I  'd  sooner  be  killed  by  Oom  Tuys 
some  day  than  by  your  father  now.  I  could  not  lie  to 
Ou  Baas." 

Neither  could  I,  but  nevertheless  I  upbraided  Sibi- 
jaan for  breaking  the  promise  he  had  made  to  me  that 
he  would  not  tell  about  our  trip.  In  fact,  I  consoled 
myself  for  losing  my  further  chances  of  visiting  Swazi- 
land with  Oom  Tuys  by  giving  Sibijaan  a  good  beating. 

88 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

He  could  fight,  but  was  not  as  strong  as  I,  and  the 
thrashing  made  no  difference  in  our  friendship.  Of 
course  the  fight  took  place  in  private;  it  would  never 
have  done  to  let  our  impi  know  that  we  had  fallen  out  for 
even  a  moment. 

Later  I  found  out  that  father  had  received  some 
pointed  enquiries  from  the  government  in  regard  to 
Oom  Tuys's  activities  in  Swaziland.  He  wanted  to 
know  first  hand,  if  possible,  what  the  "White  King  of 
Swaziland"  really  did  when  he  made  his  periodical  trips 
to  Buno's  kraal.  The  information,  however,  was  only 
for  his  own  benefit,  since  he  would  not  betray  one  of  our 
people. 

A  month  later  Oom  Tuys  stopped  at  Rietvlei  as  usual 
before  making  his  regular  trip  to  Lebombo.  That 
night  I  was  with  father  when  he  sat  talking  with  him. 
I  feared  that  father  would  ask  questions  about  our  trip, 
but  he  approached  the  subject  in  quite  another  way. 

"I  have  heard  from  various  kafiirs  that  your  last  trip 
to  Swaziland  was  a  bad  business,"  he  said  to  Tuys. 
"The  government  also  has  asked  me  about  it.  Of  course 
I  know  nothing,  since  you  have  told  me  nothing,"  and 
he  eyed  Tuys  keenly. 

"They  say  it  was  a  bad  business?"  Tuys  remarked  m 
a  blustering  way.  "Well,  they  do  n't  know  what  they  're 
talking  about!  Buno  was  only  happy  to  receive  the 
tribute  and  he  may  have  taken  a  little  too  much  gin. 
That 's  about  all  there  was  to  it.  Who  the  devil  are 
those  busybodies  who  don't  mind  their  own  business?" 

89 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Then  he  looked  at  me,  but  I  met  him  eye  to  eye.  I 
had  expected  the  encounter  and  was  ready  for  him. 
Father,  however,  realizing  the  situation,  began  talking 
again. 

"Kaffirs  will  lie,"  he  said,  "and  there  have  been  a 
number  of  Swazis  here  during  the  last  month.  Of  course 
I  don't  believe  them,  but  some  of  the  officials  who  have 
to  create  work  to  hold  their  jobs  have  been  asking  ques- 
tions.'* 

"Tell  them  to  go  to  Swaziland  and  find  out,"  said 
Tuys,  laughing  heartily.  "They  dare  n't  go.  If  they 
did,  they  'd  never  come  back.  Buno  would  answer  them, 
and  they  wouldn't  worry  about  making  any  long- 
winded  reports  when  he  had  done  with  them!" 

Tuys  knew  that  he  was  the  only  white  man  who  dared 
enter  Swaziland  then.  He  also  knew  that  the  stories 
told  by  kaffirs  did  not  carry  much  weight  and  would 
never  be  accepted  for  action  by  the  government. 

"It  would  be  well,  Tuys,"  father  said  at  the  end  of 
the  talk,  "if  you  would  induce  Buno  not  to  make  so 
much  noise  when  he  gives  his  next  party  in  your  honor. 
His  hospitality  is  too  bloody  to  be  healthy  for  either  you 
or  him." 

Tuys  did  not  question  me  about  the  matter  when  he 
saw  me  alone  next  morning.  He  evidently  refused  to 
entertain  the  thought  that  I  might  have  betrayed  him. 
If  I  had  not  met  his  eye  the  night  before,  however,  he 
would  have  been  sure  I  was  guilty.  He  did  not  com- 
ment on  the  matter,  and  I  know  now  that,  in  his  dare- 

90 


ADVEXTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

devil  way,  he  did  not  lose  any  sleep  over  it.  In  those 
days,  too,  it  must  be  remembered  that  it  did  not  cause 
much  stir  when  a  native  chief  killed  a  few  of  his  fol- 
lowers. It  was  much  more  serious  if  he  killed  the  men 
of  another  chief,  since  this  might  mean  war  and  wars 
were  always  disturbing. 

Tuys  had  nothing  to  say  on  his  return  from  Swazi- 
land, but  it  must  have  been  a  successful  trip  for  I  saw 
him  hand  my  father  a  heavy  canvas  sack  to  put  in  his 
safe  until  morning.  He  must  have  done  well  in  the 
royal  wrestling  match. 


91 


CHAPTER  VII 

I  visit  Swaziland  again — Buno's  illness — An  appeal  from  the  king — The 
race  against  death — Umzulek  meets  us — The  dying  king — Buno  makes 
Tuys  guardian  of  his  people — The  last  royal  salute  of  the  impis — The 
death-dealing  puff-adder — Buno  dies  like  a  true  savage  king — Tzaneen, 
the  royal  widow,  suspects  murder — The  queens  meet — Tuys  escapes 
the  funeral  sacrifice. 

IT  was  about  a  year  later  that  I  made  my  second  trip 
into  Swaziland.  Father  was  away  in  Pretoria  on 
business  when  Tuys  arrived  at  Rietvlei.  Very  recently 
we  had  heard  a  rumor  that  Buno  was  ill,  and  I  was 
very  keen  to  go  with  Tuys  on  this  trip.  I  felt  sure  that 
my  father  would  not  allow  me  to,  but  I  knew  that  my 
mother  could  be  persuaded  to  let  me  go.  I  therefore 
asked  Tuys  to  take  me. 

,  "I  am  almost  a  man  now,  Oom  Tuys,"  I  said,  stand- 
ing as  erect  as  I  could,  "and  I  want  to  go  with  you 
on  your  visit  to  Lebombo.  They  say  that  Buno  is  sick, 
but  that  ought  not  to  make  any  difference,  ought  it?" 

"Yes,  Owen,  it  makes  all  the  difference  in  the  world," 
he  answered.  "You  know  what  the  custom  is;  if  Buno 
dies,  his  ten  nearest  friends  will  be  sacrificed.  I  am 
regarded  as  his  friend  and  they  will  want  me  to  die. 
Much  as  I  would  appreciate  the  honor,  I  don't  want  to 
die  just  yet.  If  they  killed  me,  they  would  kill  you, 
too.    Do  you  want  to  die?" 

I  frankly  confessed  that  I  did  not.    This  explanation 

92 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

of  the  situation  placed  a  very  difiperent  light  on  it  and 
I  was  curious  to  know  what  Tuys  intended  to  do.  He 
told  me  he  would  wait  a  day  or  two  before  making  up  his 
mind,  and  I  had  hopes  that  some  way  would  be  found 
out  of  the  difficulty. 

Now  Buno  knew  that  Oom  Tuys  would  be  at  Rietvlei 
about  this  time.  He  nearly  always  was,  as  he  seldom 
started  his  trip  from  any  other  place. 

Just  at  sunset,  two  days  later,  one  of  our  Mapors 
ran  in  and  reported  that  a  small  impi  of  Swazis  was 
coming  down  the  valley. 

"I  '11  wager  that  is  a  message  from  Buno,"  Tuys 
said,  and  we  went  indoors  to  await  their  arrival.  It 
would  not  have  done  for  us  to  be  caught  waiting  for 
them.  In  a  little  while,  when  dusk  was  falling  over  the 
valley,  we  heard  many  feet  come  to  a  stop  on  the  smooth 
roadway.  Sibijaan  ran  in  to  say  that  the  impi  had  ar- 
rived, and  while  he  spoke  we  heard  the  cries  and  the 
thud  of  feet  that  marked  the  royal  salute. 

Tuys  sent  one  of  his  bodyguard  out  to  see  what  was 
wanted. 

"It  is  a  great  induna  from  King  Buno,"  the  man 
reported  a  moment  later.  "He  says  he  comes  bearing 
a  royal  message  to  his  white  brother." 

"Tell  him  that  'The  White  King'  of  his  country  will 
see  him  in  a  little  while,"  Tuys  ordered. 

It  was  almost  dark  before  Tuys  decided  the  "great 
induna"  had  waited  long  enough  to  humble  his  pride. 
Then  he  went  out;  and,  of  course,  I  followed  him.    No 

93 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

sooner  was  he  framed  in  the  light  of  the  doorway  than 
the  royal  salute  was  repeated.  He  walked  slowly  to 
the  gate.  There  was  the  chief  patiently  waiting  for  him, 
his  men  drawn  up  behind  him,  like  so  many  shapes  of 
darkness  barely  visible  in  the  night. 

"Nkoos,  White  King  of  Swaziland,"  the  induna  be- 
gan, "I  am  the  messenger  of  King  Buno.  He  sends  a 
message  to  you." 

Then  he  stopped,  awaiting  permission  to  go  on. 

"Speak!"  ordered  Tuys. 

"Buno,  our  king,  is  sick  unto  death,"  the  chief  said, 
with  dramatic  gestures,  "He  desires  that  his  white 
brother  come  to  him.  By  me  he  sends  word  that  your 
life  is  safe  and  that  he  must  see  you  before  he  dies!" 

Tuys  knew  that  Buno's  word  was  the  word  of  a  king 
and  could  be  relied  upon.  He  waited  only  a  moment, 
therefore,  and  then  said  tersely: 

"I  will  come.  To-morrow's  sun  will  see  us  on  our 
way."  With  that  he  made  the  gesture  of  dismissal. 
The  impi  again  gave  the  royal  salute  and  a  second  later 
had  departed,  swallowed  up  by  the  night. 

"Get  ready,  lad,"  Tuys  directed  as  soon  as  we  entered 
the  house.  "At  sunrise  to-morrow  we  start.  We  travel 
fast  and  light,  for  I  must  reach  Lebombo  before  Buno 
dies!" 

I  was  overjoyed,  but  immediately  my  joy  was  tem- 
pered by  the  thought  that  my  mother  would  have  to 
know  and  might  object.  Tuys,  however,  settled  that 
question  for  me.    He  went  to  her  and  told  her  that  he 

94 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

would  be  responsible  for  my  return  safe  and  sound. 
Tuys  always  had  a  way  with  him,  and  my  mother  sent 
for  me  to  tell  me  that  I  had  her  permission  to  go. 

"However,  you  must  obey  Oom  Tuys  better  this 
time,"  she  warned  me.  "I  know  that  you  were  dis- 
obedient on  the  trip  last  year  and  ran  the  risk  of  being 
killed.  You  may  go  only  if  you  promise  me  that  you 
will  obey  Tuys." 

Naturally,  I  promised.  I  would  have  done  more 
than  that  if  it  had  been  necessary,  for  I  was  wild  to  ac- 
company Tuys  this  time.  With  Buno  possibly  dying 
there  would  be  wonderful  things  to  see,  I  felt  sure.  I 
was  not  disappointed,  as  it  turned  out. 

At  dawn  the  next  morning  we  were  on  our  way.  We 
had  about  the  same  equipment  as  before,  except  that 
I  rode  a  bigger  and  faster  horse  and  four  speedy  mules 
were  harnessed  to  our  light  wagon,  instead  of  six.  Sibi- 
jaan  drove  the  mules  and  swung  his  sjambok  without 
mercy.  For  once  he  was  not  called  down  for  beating 
the  mules. 

As  Tuys  predicted,  we  traveled  fast.  The  induna 
and  his  impi  had  left  Rietvlei  during  the  night  and 
started  back  toward  Lebombo.  We  caught  up  with  them 
during  the  afternoon.  They  were  hitting  a  smart  pace, 
with  the  induna  in  the  lead.  His  plumes  appeared  to 
mark  the  cadence  of  their  steps  and  they  must  have 
been  making  better  than  six  miles  an  hour. 

"Is  the  way  prepared  for  us?"  Tuys  asked  the  chief. 

95 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"Does  the  king  expect  me?    Are  his  men  waiting  for 
me?" 

"Nkoos,  the  king  waits!"  the  induna  replied  most  im- 
pressively. "He  bade  me  to  tell  you  to  hurry.  The 
king  dies,  and  must  see  you  before  he  goes  to  the  caves." 

This  seemed  to  satisfy  Oom  Tuys,  so  that  he  sent 
home  the  spurs  and  we  all  broke  into  a  new  burst  of 
speed.  The  road  was  rough,  and  I  would  look  back 
now  and  then  to  see  Sibijaan  swaying  to  and  fro  as  he 
jerked  up  the  mules  and  cut  them  with  his  sjambok. 
Tuys's  boys,  or  servants,  with  the  exception  of  his  body- 
guard, ran  beside  the  wagon,  holding  to  it  to  help  them 
over  the  ground. 

Tuys  seemed  possessed  with  the  idea  that  Buno  was 
really  dying,  and  our  trip  became  a  race  with  death. 
It  was  very  exciting.  Down  through  the  Valley  of 
Heaven  we  ran,  past  kraals  from  which  the  Swazis 
tumbled  out  to  gaze  in  wonder  at  us.  Several  indunas, 
knowing  that  Tuys  was  due  on  his  monthly  trip,  tried  to 
halt  us  to  offer  tswala  or  food,  but  Tuys  would  throw 
them  a  word  and  press  on.  This  was  on  our  second 
day's  trek.  On  the  first  night  we  had  stopped  shortly 
before  midnight,  and  then  only  to  give  our  horses  and 
mules  some  much  needed  rest. 

By  the  end  of  the  second  day  both  animals  and  men 
were  pretty  well  exhausted,  so  we  camped  a  little  earlier. 
We  were  up  at  dawn,  and  Tuys  estimated  that  we 
would  reach  Lebombo  by  noon.  During  that  last 
night's  camp  a  small  band  of  witch-doctors  stopped  to 

96 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

talk  to  Tuys.  It  seemed  that  they  had  received  word 
that  Buno  was  dying  and  were  going  to  Lebombo  to 
be  in  at  his  death,  so  to  speak. 

"Vultures !  Carrion-eaters !  That 's  what  they  are," 
Tuys  remarked  to  me  with  disgust.  "They  are  going  to 
Lebombo  so  that  they  will  be  there  to  bury  the  king, 
if  he  dies.    I  wish  Buno  would  fool  them!" 

As  before,  we  passed  Queen  Labotsibeni's  kraal  at 
Zombode.  This  time  there  were  only  women  and  chil- 
dren there.  All  the  indunas  and  warriors  had  gone  on 
to  Lebombo.  Tuys  asked  a  curious  woman  how  this 
was. 

"Yesterday,  O  Nkoos,  the  conmiand  came  from  the 
king  that  all  warriors  should  go  to  Lebombo,"  she  ex- 
plained. "None  but  messengers  remain,  and  these  are 
now  going  on  to  tell  that  you  are  near."  While  she  spoke 
we  saw  a  small  band  of  warriors  swiftly  running  up  the 
trail  ahead.  In  a  moment  they  had  passed  the  turn  of 
the  road  and  were  gone.  In  the  brief  glimpse  I  had  of 
them  I  saw  that  they  wore  the  broad  white  band  that, 
denotes  a  "king's  messenger"  in  Swaziland. 

We  pushed  on.  Tired  as  our  animals  were,  we  made 
good  time,  though  not  good  enough  to  catch  up  with 
the  messengers. 

As  our  party  came  round  the  bend  into  sight  of  Le- 
bombo, we  found  three  indunas  and  more  than  a  thou- 
sand warriors  of  the  king's  own  impis  waiting  for  us. 
They  were  lined  up  on  either  side  of  the  road  and  gave 
us  the  royal  salute  as  we  passed  between  them.    We  did 

97 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

not  halt,  and  these  splendid  warriors  formed  behind  us 
and  trotted  along  as  our  escort.  It  was  a  wonderful 
sight.  Their  nodding  plumes  and  bizarre  shields,  with 
here  and  there  the  flash  of  sunlight  from  an  assegai, 
made  a  stirring  picture. 

While  yet  some  distance  away  I  could  see  that  there 
was  an  army  gathered  about  the  royal  kraal.  There 
seemed  to  be  tens  of  thousands  of  warriors,  all  more 
or  less  in  formation.  When  we  came  closer,  a  number 
of  indunas  ran  forward  to  meet  us  and  Umzulek,  a 
brother  of  Buno,  led  us  to  the  king.  On  each  side  of 
the  roadway  where  the  infamous  shooting  match  had 
taken  place  the  year  before  were  solid  lines  of  warriors, 
three  and  even  four  deep.  As  we  passed  up  the  line, 
impi  after  impi  gave  the  royal  salute. 

Except  for  the  exclamations  of  the  warriors  and  the 
stamp  of  their  feet,  there  was  a  strange  silence.  There 
seemed  to  be  an  air  of  foreboding,  as  though  all  were 
waiting  for  something  they  dreaded. 

We  dismounted  at  the  king's  hut.  Tuys  motioned 
me  to  come  with  him,  and  we  stooped  and  went  in.  For 
a  moment  we  could  see  nothing  in  the  dim  light.  My 
first  impression  was  that  the  hut  was  filled  with  people 
and  was  stifling  hot. 

Then  I  saw  the  king  stretched  out  on  some  mats, 
with  his  head  propped  up  on  a  small  block  of  wood. 
He  was  very  changed.  His  great  body  was  gaunt,  his 
face  haggard,  and  his  eyes  shone  with  the  fire  of  fever. 

98 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Buno  gazed  fixedly  at  Tuys  for  a  moment  and  then 
weakly  raised  his  hands  in  salute. 

"Welcome,  Nkoos,  white  brother  of  the  king,"  he  said 
in  a  thin  old  voice.  "Welcome,  white  king  of  my  people! 
I  knew  you  would  come.    You  are  a  true  friend!" 

Even  in  the  dim  light  I  could  see  that  Tuys  was 
moved.  He  fumbled  his  great  beard  and  finally  began 
to  speak. 

"Come  closer,  Nkoos,"  came  the  royal  command. 
"Send  my  indunas  away.  I  would  speak  with  you 
alone." 

Tuys  motioned  to  the  indunas  to  go,  and  they  filed 
out.     Then  Buno  saw  me: 

"Welcome,  little  induna,"  he  said,  his  voice  seeming 
even  fainter.  "Welcome,  Mzaan  Bakoor!  You  are  my 
friend,  too.  You  must  remain  with  Oom  Tuys  and  me, 
for  I  have  a  request  to  make  that  you  shall  inherit  from 
him  when  he  is  gone." 

Tuys  and  I  sat  close  to  Buno,  and  then  I  saw  how 
little  life  was  left  in  his  once  powerful  body. 

"Gin!  Give  me  gin,"  Buno  pleaded.  "I  must  have 
strength  to  talk.     Give  me  gin!" 

Tuys  poured  out  a  large  drink  of  the  fiery  liquid  and 
the  king  choked  it  down.  He  gasped  for  a  moment, 
and  then  went  on  in  a  stronger  voice. 

"Nkoos,  my  white  brother,"  Buno  said.  "You  are 
not  of  our  people  and  therefore  cannot  die  with  me. 
You  cannot  have  the  joy  and  honor  of  joining  the  king 

99 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

in  death.    For  I  know  now  that  I  am  dying.    Perhaps 
I  shall  not  live  to  see  another  sunrise." 

I  felt  that  he  was  right.  One  so  weak  and  emaciated 
could  not  live  long.    Undoubtedly  Buno  was  dying. 

"But  you  can  serve  my  people  when  I  am  dead,"  he 
continued,  "by  continuing  to  be  their  true  friend,  just 
as  you  have  been  mine.  I  would  have  you  make  a  paper 
which  would  tell  all  the  world  that  you  are  the  guardian 
of  the  people  of  Swaziland.  When  you  die  you  can 
make  Mzaan  Bakoor  the  guardian.  He  will  be  a  man 
then  and  will  care  for  my  poor  people.  Swaziland  has 
many  enemies — ^the  Boers,  the  English,  the  Zulus,  and 
others.  All  desire  our  land.  You  can  prevent  them 
from  taking  it.  Will  you  be  their  guardian  when  I  am 
gone  ?" 

Tuys  met  the  feverish  eyes  of  the  dying  monarch  and 
then  his  deep  voice  rumbled.  I  remember  noting  how 
different  it  was  from  that  of  Buno. 

"O  King,  you  have  spoken!"  he  answered.  "Your 
word  is  my  command.  So  long  as  I  live  I  shall  guard 
your  people  and  shall  protect  them  from  their  enemies !" 

"It  is  well,  Nkoos,"  Buno  said,  his  voice  scarce  above 
a  whisper.  Then  he  closed  his  eyes  for  a  moment  and 
rested.  In  a  little  while  he  asked  for  more  gin,  and 
then  asked  Tuys  to  call  the  indunas.  They  filed  it  and 
stood  on  each  side  of  the  recumbent  king.  There  were 
ten  or  twelve  of  them,  all  the  greatest  chiefs  in  Swazi- 
land.   Umzulek,  I  remember,  stood  at  Buno's  feet. 

After  a  brief  silence  Buno  spoke. 

100 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"Indunas,  I  am  dying,"  he  said,  his  voice  again  quite 
clear.  "Soon  I  shall  leave  you,  never  to  return.  I  go 
to  the  caves  from  which  none  come  back.  Until  now  I 
have  feared  to  die.  I  feared  that  enemies  might  bring 
evil  days  to  Swaziland.  Now,  however,  I  go  in  peace. 
Oom  Tuys,  my  friend,  has  promised  to  be  the  friend  and 
guardian  of  our  country  when  I  am  no  longer  here.  He 
shall  protect  Swaziland  from  the  whites  and  Zulus  so 
long  as  he  lives,  and  when  he  is  gone,  Mzaan  Bakoor, 
who  will  be  a  man  then  and  powerful,  will  act  in  his 
place.  O  indunas,  you  must  look  to  my  white  brother 
for  help  when  Swaziland  needs  it.  This  is  my  com- 
mand!" 

Then  he  stopped.  When  Buno  said  "This  is  my 
command!"  his  illness  seemed  to  drop  away  from  him 
and  he  became  the  great  king  again.  The  indunas  raised 
their  hands  in  token  of  acceptance  of  Buno's  command 
and  then  all  together  said,  "The  king's  word  is  law!" 

For  some  reason  or  other  I  glanced  at  Umzulek.  He 
made  the  same  motion  as  the  others,  but  there  was  an 
intangible  suggestion  of  revolt  in  his  acceptance.  I 
had  a  sudden  feeling  that  he  would  make  trouble  after 
Buno  was  gone. 

"Once  again  I  shall  see  my  impis,"  said  Buno,  his 
voice  again  weakening.  "Each  day  may  be  the  last,  but 
each  day  my  warriors  must  salute  their  king  once  more!" 

Next  came  an  extraordinary  exhibition.  All  but  four 
of  the  indunas  went  out.  Those  remaining  lifted  Buno 
up — and  I  noted  that  they  did  it  with  ease — and  half- 

101 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

carried,  half -dragged  him  through  the  low  opening  of 
the  hut  to  the  clean  air  outside.  There  they  laid  him  on 
a  couch,  facing  the  thousands  of  warriors. 

The  whole  affair  seemed  rehearsed.  No  sooner  was 
the  king  settled,  his  eyes  sweeping  the  serried  ranks  of 
the  impis,  than  an  imposing  induna  stepped  out  and 
led  them  in  the  royal  salute.  Three  times  they  gave  it, 
with  the  sound  of  thunder  in  the  mountains,  and  at  each 
crash  I  could  see  a  faint  smile  soften  Buno's  harsh  fea- 
tures.   He  had  lived  a  king  and  like  a  king  would  die! 

Then  followed  a  sort  of  march  past.  It  seemed  to 
me  that  untold  thousands  of  these  great  warriors  went 
by,  each  raising  his  arms  above  his  head  in  salute  as  he 
passed.  Before  long  Buno  became  faint  again,  and 
Tuys  gave  him  a  little  more  gin.  How  he  was  able  to 
stick  out  this  review  was  beyond  me.  I  could  not  see 
where  he  got  the  strength. 

Down  in  my  heart  I  had  a  fear  that  something  would 
go  wrong  and  that  Buno  would  show  his  savagery  by 
having  some  poor  warrior  killed,  partly  to  satisfy  his 
blood-craving  and  partly  to  impress  us.  However, 
luck  was  with  us.  No  one  blundered,  and  when  the 
impis  had  passed  by  they  re-formed  along  the  roadway 
and  gave  the  triple  royal  salute.  That  was  the  end, 
and  the  indunas  carried  Buno  back  to  his  hut.  He  told 
Tuys  that  he  wanted  to  sleep  and  would  send  for  him 
when  he  awaked.  This  was  our  dismissal,  and  we  went 
to  our  wagon,  which  was  at  the  usual  place. 

I  was  very  hungry  and  was  glad  to  find  that  Tuys's 

102 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

servants  had  prepared  food.  Tuys  was  eating  and  re- 
marking on  the  condition  of  the  king  when  suddenly 
an  induna  came  running  in  to  us.  He  did  not  wait  for 
any  of  the  usual  formalities,  but  dashed  right  up  to  where 
we  sat  on  the  ground,  chewing  our  rusks  and  biltong. 

"Come  quick,  come  quick,  Nkoos!"  he  gasped.  "The 
king  is  dying!  A  puff-adder  has  bitten  him.  Come 
quick!    He  calls  you!" 

We  dropped  our  food  and  followed  the  chief  at  a 
run.  In  a  few  seconds  we  threw  ourselves  into  Buno's 
hut.  A  number  of  indunas  were  about  him,  all  very 
excited.  He  was  breathing  heavily,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
smoke-hole  in  the  roof. 

Tuys  stood  by  his  head  and  said,  "I  am  here,  O 
King!"  This  he  repeated  three  or  four  times,  the  last 
time  in  a  fair  shout,  before  Buno  looked  at  him.  For 
a  moment  the  king  licked  his  lips  and  made  as  though 
to  speak.    Finally  the  words  came : 

"I  am  going  now,  Nkoos!  I  am  as  good  as  dead!" 
he  cried,  his  voice  shrill  in  its  weakness.  "The  snake 
has  done  what  the  fever  failed  to  do — the  snake  has 
given  me  release!" 

Then  he  shook  as  though  with  a  violent  chill.  His 
hands  opened  and  shut  convulsively  and  his  head  rolled 
from  side  to  side.  After  a  moment  he  became  still  and 
began  speaking  again.  I  could  see  that  his  body  had 
begun  to  swell;  he  looked  bloated. 

"It  is  the  end!"  he  croaked.    "I  die!  I  die!  .  .  .  The 

103 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

king  dies !  But  the  king  will  die  like  a  man  I  The  king 
will  die  on  his  feet,  like  a  warrior!" 

With  superhuman  strength  he  heaved  himself  up  and 
sat  bolt  upright.  Tuys  and  several  of  the  indunas 
sprang  to  his  aid,  and  in  a  moment  they  had  him  on  his 
feet.    His  legs  seemed  perfectly  stiff. 

"Let  go!  Let  go!"  he  cried.  "I  am  a  man  and  will 
meet  death  face  to  face!" 

They  took  their  hands  off  him,  and  he  stood  swaying 
back  and  forth,  his  mouth  working  as  he  tried  to  speak. 
The  light  from  the  smoke-hole  struck  him  on  the  head 
and  deepened  the  lines  of  his  face,  throwing  heavy 
shadows  under  the  eyes  and  chin.  These  shadows  in- 
tensified the  cruelty  of  his  face,  and  I  felt  a  cold  shud- 
der. Buno  dying  was  even  more  terrible  than  Buno 
killing  I 

He  must  have  stood  for  a  moment  only,  but  it  seemed 
an  age  to  me.  His  rolling  eyes  passed  from  chief  to 
chief  and  his  shaking  right  hand  tore  an  assegai  from 
the  nearest.    Then  the  end ! 

Raising  himself  on  his  toes,  his  body  straight  and 
head  thrown  back,  he  threw  both  hands  up  and  brought 
the  spear  down  with  a  vicious  stabbing  motion. 

"Soukbulala!  Soukbulala!"  he  shouted,  and  pitched 
forward  dead.  Tuys,  I  remember,  almost  caught  him 
as  he  fell.  Later  I  learned  that  his  last  cry  was  the 
war-shout  of  the  S.wazis.     It  means  "I  '11  kill  you!" 

"He  died  as  he  lived,"  Tuys  said  to  me  in  Dutch  out 

104! 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

of  the  corner  of  his  mouth,  while  he  leaned  down  and 
turned  Bunp  over.  Then  he  assisted  the  indunas  in 
laying  him  out  with  his  head  on  the  block  and  a  won- 
derful fur  robe  over  his  wasted  body. 

When  this  was  completed  the  indunas  stepped  back 
and  gave  their  dead  king  the  royal  salute.  A  moment 
later  one  of  them  stepped  out  of  the  hut  and  raised  his 
deep  voice  in  a  solemn  shout. 

"Nkoos  ou  pelela!  E'  Buno  impela  e  baba  amaswazi 
ou  pelela  guti!"  he  cried.  This  he  repeated  over  and 
over  until  it  became  a  sort  of  chant.  It  was  the  an- 
nouncement of  Buno's  death  and,  translated,  was  about 
as  follows,  "The  king  is  dead!  Buno  the  Great,  the 
father  of  his  people,  is  dead !" 

We  got  out  of  the  hut  as  soon  as  we  could,  and  found 
the  natives  running  from  all  directions.  Soon  there 
was  a  great  mob.  They  were  quiet,  but  each  seemed 
apprehensive.  Their  voices  rose  in  a  subdued  murmur. 
As  I  watched,  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  did  not  see  Um- 
zulek  anywhere.  It  seemed  queer  that  the  king's 
brother  should  not  be  there. 

Then  came  cries  of  "The  queen!  The  queen!  Tzaneen! 
Tzaneen!"  and  I  could  see  the  crowd  split,  leaving  a 
wide  passageway.  Down  the  alley  came  a  score  of 
splendid  warriors,  in  their  midst  the  finest  looking 
woman  I  had  yet  seen.  She  walked  with  head  erect  and 
steady  tread,  exactly  as  a  queen  should  carry  herself. 

"It 's  Tzaneen,  the  queen,"  Tuys  said,  catching  me 

105 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

by  the  arm.  She  is  the  queen,  and  her  unborn  child  will 
be  the  ruler  of  Swaziland.    Watch  closely  now." 

She  stopped  short  in  front  of  us  and  saluted  Tuys. 
She  was  about  six  feet  tall  and  was  a  most  imposing 
figure. 

"Nkoos,  is  it  true  that  Buno  is  dead?"  she  asked  in  a 
level  voice. 

"Nkosikaas,  the  king  is  dead,"  Tuys  replied.  "His 
body  lies  within.    A  snake  killed  him." 

"How  did  the  snake  come  to  his  kraal?"  Tzaneen 
asked,  eyeing  Tuys  keenly.  "Did  that  snake  come  on 
two  feet?" 

This  was  a  new  idea.  It  had  not  occurred  to  me  to 
question  the  manner  in  which  the  snake  had  reached  the 
hut.  With  all  the  warriors  about,  even  though  they  may 
have  been  taking  their  midday  sleep,  it  seemed  very 
peculiar  that  the  pufF-adder  should  have  been  able  to 
reach  Buno  without  being  seen  and  killed.  Again  I 
found  myself  asking  for  Umzulek. 

"I  cannot  tell  how  the  snake  came  to  the  king,"  Tuys 
said,  in  answer  to  Tzaneen's  questions.  "I  was  at  my 
camp  when  word  was  brought  that  Buno  was  dying." 

Tzaneen  then  stooped  and  entered  the  hut,  followed 
by  several  other  women  whom  I  took  to  be  her  personal 
attendants  or  maids.  We  remained  outside.  It  was  not 
fitting  that  white  men  should  see  the  Zulu  princess, 
queen  of  Swaziland,  with  her  dead  king. 

No  sooner  had  she  entered  the  hut  than  the  voices  of 
the  crowd  rose  in  expectancy.    I  looked  around  to  see 

106 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

another  party  coming  up  the  rapidly  formed  passage- 
way. There  were  more  warriors  in  this  party  than  the 
other,  and  again  I  could  see  a  woman  at  the  head  of 
several  others.  As  she  passed,  the  people  saluted.  They 
had  not  done  so  before,  and  this  struck  me  as  queer. 

When  the  party  came  closer  I  could  see  that  it  was 
Queen  Labotsibeni,  the  mother  of  the  dead  king.  At 
her  right  hand  was  the  missing  Umzulek.  She  seemed 
much  agitated,  but  he  strode  along  quite  cheerfully. 

Tuys  stepped  forward  to  meet  the  old  queen.  There 
was  the  usual  salutation,  and  she  asked,  "My  son,  the 
king,  is  dead?" 

"Yes,  Nkosikaas,  it  is  so,"  Tuys  assured  her. 

They  stood  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then  quite  sud- 
denly Queen  Tzaneen  joined  the  group.  I  had  been 
watching  Labotsibeni  so  intently  that  I  did  not  see  her 
come  out  of  the  hut. 

The  two  queens  stood  looking  at  one  another,  each 
waiting  for  the  other  to  salute.  Umzulek,  behind  the 
old  queen,  was  watching  Tzaneen,  and  I  had  a  feeling 
that  something  was  about  to  happen.  I  could  see  that 
Tuys  was  interested  and  saw  him  shift  his  feet,  his  right 
hand  carelessly  resting  on  the  butt  of  his  revolver.  He, 
too,  was  watching  Umzulek.    Finally  Tzaneen  spoke. 

"Queen  Mother,"  she  said,  addressing  Labotsibeni, 
"Our  king  is  dead!  You  have  lost  your  son  and  I  my 
husband,  the  father  of  my  unborn  child,  who  is  to  be 
king  of  Swaziland." 

107 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"What  if  your  child  be  a  woman?"  snapped  back  the 
old  queen,  who  had  evidently  been  thinking  along  prac- 
tical lines.  "Who  is  to  rule  Swaziland  until  your  child 
is  born?" 

"I  am  the  queen!"  said  Tzaneen,  drawing  herself  up 
until  she  looked  it  and  gazing  fixedly  at  the  old  queen. 

Labotsibeni  met  her  eyes  without  flinching,  and  then 
without  another  word  pushed  by  her  and  entered  the  hut 
where  her  son's  body  lay.  Tzaneen,  calling  her  people 
to  her,  strode  through  the  crowd.  As  she  went,  they 
gave  her  the  royal  salute.  It  looked  as  though  the 
people  were  acknowledging  her  as  their  ruler. 

Tuys  and  I  stood  back  during  the  brief  exchange  be- 
tween the  queens.  It  was  none  of  our  business,  of 
course,  but  he  was  keenly  interested  and  did  not  miss  a 
word.  We  decided  that  we  were  not  wanted  at  the 
royal  kraal  about  this  time  and  went  back  to  our  camp. 
The  day  was  dying,  anyway,  and  Tuys  said  he  thought  it 
would  be  dangerous  to  be  abroad  that  night. 

"When  the  fires  are  hghted  to-night,"  Tuys  told  me  as 
soon  as  we  reached  camp,  "the  witch-doctors  will  kill 
the  ten  indunas  chosen  to  die  with  the  king.  We  shall 
not  go  and  see  this.  When  the  council  chose  these  men, 
I  was  to  be  the  first  man  killed,  because  I  was  a  friend 
of  Buno.  Umzulek  was  one  of  his  council  and  I  don't 
trust  him.  Buno  ordered  that  I  was  not  to  be  killed 
because  I  was  white,  but  accidents  happen  in  Swazi- 
land, as  you  know,  and  I  don't  care  to  take  any  chances." 

This  seemed  good  sense  to  me.    Now  that  Buno,  our 

108 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

protector,  was  dead,  I  had  begun  to  worry  about  our 
safety.  The  fact  that  Buno  had  appointed  Tuys  as 
"guardian"  of  his  people  might  not  carry  as  much  weight 
as  he  thought. 


109 


CHAPTER   VIII 

The  royal  funeral — The  "thunder  of  the  shields" — Not  afraid  to  die — The 
witch-doctor's  bloody  work — What  Labotsibenl  wanted — The  burial  of 
the  indunas — Rain-making  and  the  "rain  stone" — Buno's  burial  in  the 
caves — Witch-doctors  prevent  our  entering  the  caves — Labotsibeni  sends 
for  gin. 

WE  had  not  been  in  camp  more  than  a  few  minutes 
when  an  induna  came  to  see  Tuys.  He  said  he 
came  from  Queen  Labotsibeni  and  that  she  wanted  him 
to  go  and  see  her.    Tuys  did  not  like  the  idea. 

"Tell  Queen  Labotsibeni  that  I  am  here,"  he  said. 
"If  she  wants  to  see  me,  let  her  come  to  me  here!" 

As  the  fires  were  beginning  to  glow  in  the  dusk,  the 
old  queen  came.  She  was  accompanied  by  only  two  or 
three  warriors  and  several  women.  Tuys  gave  her  a 
bottle  of  gin,  and  she  took  a  very  large  drink  before 
they  started  talking.  Like  all  the  Swazis,  she  was  in- 
ordinately fond  of  spirits. 

I  sat  close  to  Tuys,  feeling  sure  that  I  would  hear 
something  interesting.  Labotsibeni  did  not  want  to  talk 
while  I  was  there  and  suggested  that  I  go  and  see  the 
sacrifice.  She  said  she  would  send  her  warriors  with  me 
and  thus  I  could  see  the  ten  indunas  killed.  This  did  not 
appeal  strongly  to  me,  but  Tuys  seemed  to  think  I  ought 
not  to  miss  it. 

"Mzaan  Bakoor,  you  won't  get  another  chance  soon 
to  see  a  Swazi  king's  burial  ceremonies,"  he  said.    "You 

110 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

had  better  go."  Then  he  added  in  Dutch,  "Don't  be 
afraid,  boy.  You  are  perfectly  safe  with  her  men.  No 
one  dare  touch  them." 

So  I  reluctantly  went.  It  was  dark  by  this  time,  and 
it  seemed  as  though  all  Swaziland  was  going  to  attend 
the  sacrifice.  We  soon  found  ourselves  in  a  great  crowd, 
every  one  armed  and  in  full  war  costume.  There  were 
no  women,  these  being  left  behind  to  mind  the  fires. 

The  two  warriors  who  acted  as  my  escort  were  great 
grim-faced  savages,  both  of  them  a  head  taller  than 
me.  They  must  have  been  well  over  six  feet,  and  I  had 
to  almost  trot  to  keep  up  with  them.  Both  were  in- 
dunas,  and  from  what  they  said  I  gathered  that  a  brother 
of  one  of  them  was  to  be  killed  at  the  sacrifice.  Both 
spoke  of  his  impending  death  as  though  it  were  a  great 
honor.  It  was  not  until  the  actual  ceremony  that  I  was 
sure  whose  brother  it  was. 

The  fire  in  front  of  Buno's  hut  was  a  great  blaze.  It 
lighted  up  the  scores  of  huts  nearby  and  revealed  thou- 
sands of  warriors  drawn  up  in  rows,  more  than  twenty 
deep,  about  it.  By  using  Queen  Labotsibeni's  namCj 
my  escort  forced  our  way  through  until  we  stood  on  the 
very  edge  of  the  fire.  All  about  me  I  could  hear  the 
deep-throated  voices  of  the  warriors. 

For  fully  fifteen  minutes  nothing  happened,  except 
that  those  behind  seemed  to  press  closer.  Then  sud- 
denly a  number  of  men  dashed  into  the  open  space,  each 
bearing  a  huge  bundle  of  faggots.  They  waited, 
bundles  on  head,  and  an  expectant  hush  succeeded  the 

111 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

hum  of  voices.    The  only  sound  was  the  crackle  of  the 
fire. 

From  where  we  stood  we  could  see  the  entrance  to 
Buno's  hut,  standing  out  like  a  black  spot  in  the  illumina- 
tion. While  we  watched  a  strange  figure  came  out.  He 
was  wearing  furs  and  feathers  and  wore  a  hideous  mask. 
It  was  the  head  witch-doctor!  Behind  him  came  six  or 
seven  lesser  witch-doctors  bearing  the  body  of  the  king. 
They  straightened  up,  and  a  second  later  lifted  their 
burden  above  their  heads.  At  this  the  head  witch- 
doctor threw  up  his  hands  and  the  entire  multitude  of 
warriors  gave  the  triple  royal  salute.  The  earth  fairly 
trembled  when  their  feet  came  down.  Then  the  faggot- 
men  threw  their  loads  into  the  fire  and  the  flames  leaped 
a  score  of  feet  into  the  air.  The  king's  body  was  placed 
on  the  mats  in  front  of  his  hut,  the  witch-doctors  form- 
ing a  guard  on  either  side.  This  was  the  beginning  of 
the  real  ceremony.  Led  by  the  chief  witch-doctor,  the 
dancing  began. 

Now  the  Swaziland  idea  of  dancing  consists  of  leaps 
into  the  air  and  incessant  stamping  of  the  feet.  Soon 
thousands  were  dancing  and  the  dust  became  a  haze  be- 
fore the  bright  flames  of  the  fire.  I  was  probably  the 
only  person  within  sight  of  Buno's  body  who  was  not 
dancing.  My  two  bodyguards  were  leaping  wildly, 
and  I  noted  that  they  were  most  earnest  in  their  exercise. 

The  dance  must  have  lasted  five  minutes.  It  was 
brought  to  a  sudden  stop  by  the  chief  witch-doctor,  who 
threw  up  his  arms  and  called  a  halt.    In  just  as  short  a 

112 


QUEEN  TZAXEEN,  MOTHER  OF  THE  CROWN  PRINCE 

She  ia  wearing  a  silk  wrap  presented  to  her  by  Dr.  O'Neil.    Note  the  hair,  which  is  worked 

up  into  this  peculiar  shape  upKjn  marriage 


QUEEN  TZANEEN  WITH  SOME  %TJLU  PRINCESSES 


They  had  arrived  to  preaent  themselves  in  marriage  to  the  prince.    They  are  cousins  of 
the  queen,  as  she  is  a  Zulu  by  birth 


UMZULEK,  A  RESOURCEFUL  AND  INFLUENTIAL  EXILE 

He  is  living  in  a  territory  set  aside  for  him.    On  his  right  is  Prince  Bilakzi,  who  is  soliciting 

his  assistance  for  Sebuza  in  obtaining  his  throne 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

time  as  they  had  gone  dance  mad,  the  entire  assemblage 
quieted  down.  The  stirring  ceased  and  I  could  feel 
the  air  of  dread  expectancy  that  showed  the  end  of 
the  drama  was  in  sight. 

The  witch-doctor  gave  some  sort  of  a  command,  and 
from  behind  Buno's  hut  came  ten  of  the  most  splendid 
savages  I  have  ever  seen.  They  were  all  indunas  and 
wore  iJie  full  costume  of  their  rank.  On  their  heads 
were  great  plumes  and  each  carried  his  shield,  knob- 
kerrie,  and  assegai.  With  steady  tramp  they  passed 
by  their  dead  king  and  lined  up,  facing  his  body,  in 
front  of  the  fire. 

No  sooner  were  they  in  place  than  they  gave  the 
royal  salute.  Then  they  did  something  I  had  not  seen 
before.  With  steady  rythmic  strokes  they  beat  on  their 
great  shields  with  their  knob-kerries.  This  lasted  for 
only  a  moment,  but  it  was  hke  the  throbbing  of  a  heart — 
the  heart  of  Swaziland,  it  seemed  to  me. 

When  the  hollow  roar  died,  the  chief  witch-doctor 
stepped  out  and  made  an  oration.  We  could  not  hear 
him  very  plainly.     However,  I  caught  a  few  phrases. 

"Indunas,  great  heroes  of  Swaziland,"  he  shouted, 
illustrating  his  words  with  extravagant  gestures  and 
contortions,  "You  have  been  chosen  of  all  our  people 
to  die  with  our  king.  There  is  not  one  present  who  does 
not  envy  you!  Tens  of  thousands  are  here,  and  all 
covet  the  honor  that  is  yours. 

"Buno,  our  great  king,  the  saviour  of  Swaziland,  has 

113 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

gone !    Great  indunas,  you  would  not  want  to  live  with- 
out your  peerless  leader — life  would  mean  nothing!" 

There  was  a  lot  more,  but  I  did  not  get  it.  The  ora- 
tion must  have  lasted  a  good  half  hour,  the  condemned 
men  standing  like  statues  all  the  while.  I  did  not  un- 
derstand the  last  remarks  of  the  witch-doctor,  but  the 
instant  he  stopped  the  royal  salute,  repeated  once, 
crashed  out. 

Then  the  first  of  the  ten  indunas  stepped  out.  He 
raised  his  shield  and  knob-kerrie  above  his  head  and 
saluted  the  dead  king.  Immediately  came  the  "thunder 
of  the  shields."  Every  warrior  in  the  entire  crowd  be- 
gan striking  his  shield  with  his  knob-kerrie.  There  was 
no  staccato  to  the  blows — ^rather  a  rubbing,  pulling 
stroke  that  brought  each  blow  out  with  repeated  vibra- 
tions. In  a  few  moments  a  cadence  was  set  up  and  the 
strokes  came  all  together  at  equal  intervals.  The  effect 
was  terrific ;  the  air  seemed  to  pulsate  with  the  vibrations 
and  it  seemed  to  catch  me  right  in  the  pit  of  the  stomach. 

The  steady  drumming  slowly  rose  in  a  crescendo, 
and  then  the  induna  turned  from  the  king's  body  and 
with  one  far-flung  motion  threw  his  shield  and  arms 
into  the  fire.  Next  he  turned,  threw  his  head  back,  and 
faced  the  body.  Slowly  and  firmly  he  stepped  forward 
until  he  stood  beside  his  dead  king. 

The  chief  witch-doctor  stood  a  pace  or  two  from  him, 
his  right  hand  holding  a  great  curv^ed  knife  which 
gleamed  and  shimmered  in  the  bright  light  of  the  fire. 
There  was  a  tense  moment,  made  doubly  painful  by 

114 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

the  steady  roar  of  the  beaten  shields.  I  was  fascinated. 
I  knew  what  was  coming  and  dreaded  to  see  it.  Yet  I 
found  myself  powerless  to  look  away;  my  eyes  were 
riveted  on  that  murderous  knife! 

Slowly  the  witch-doctor  raised  the  knife  above  his 
head.  Then  one  step  forward,  a  lightning  thrust,  and 
the  induna  came  down  like  a  falling  tree!  He  did  not 
stir ;  there  was  no  convulsive  death  struggle.  The  doctor 
was  an  efficient  butcher. 

Each  of  the  others  went  to  his  death  in  exactly  the 
same  way.  There  was  no  flinching,  no  hesitation ;  open- 
ej^ed  and  unafraid  these  savages  went  like  stoics  to  their 
death.  The  witch-doctor  did  not  bungle;  each  stroke 
brought  death  and  there  was  no  need  for  the  services  of 
his  assistants  who  stood  ready  with  stabbing  spears. 

The  next  to  the  last  man  to  die  was  the  brother  of  the 
fiercest  of  my  two  bodyguards.  This  was  evident  from 
the  new  energy  with  which  my  man  beat  his  shield.  If  I 
had  not  noticed  this,  his  remark  after  the  knife  went 
home  would  have  enlightened  me. 

"A  man!  A  br^ve  man!  A  warrior!"  he  said  to  his 
companion  in  a  hoarse,  dust-choked  voice.  "My  brother 
is  a  brave  induna.    He  is  a  true  son  of  my  mother  I" 

When  the  last  man  was  sacrificed,  the  witch-doctor 
made  another  speech.  It  was  about  what  heroes  the  ten 
indunas  had  been  and  what  a  great  king  they  had  lost. 
One  sentence  I  remember. 

"So  long  as  warriors  are  willing  to  die  for  Swazi- 
land," he  shouted,  "our  country  is  safe!    So  long  as  our 

115 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

best  face  death  without  fear,  we  need  not  fear  the  Zulus, 
Boers,  or  British.  The  white  men  fear  death.  They 
can  never  stand  against  our  impis  if  our  warriors  are  led 
by  such  men  as  those  who  died  to-night!" 

The  thought  came  to  me  that  it  was  rather  foolish  to 
kill  indunas,  leaders  of  warriors,  in  this  fashion,  but  it 
was  the  ancient  custom  and  their  brave  death  made  for 
heroism  among  those  who  lived.  Each  kraal  to  which 
one  of  the  sacrificed  indunas  belonged  gloried  in  his 
death  and  it  became  a  tradition  for  the  younger  warriors 
to  live  up  to. 

The  doctor  ceased  speaking  after  a  little  and  the 
crowd  began  to  move  away.  The  king's  body  was  taken 
back  to  his  hut  and  the  fire  allowed  to  burn  low.  When 
we  left,  which  we  did  as  soon  as  we  could,  the  chief 
witch-doctor  was  marching  up  and  down  outside  the 
hut  and  accompanying  his  steps  with  a  sort  of  chant. 

My  most  distinct  memory  of  the  sacrifice  is  the  sensa- 
tion I  suffered  when  the  drumming  of  the  shields  reached 
its  height.  I  shall  never  forget  this.  Every  time  I  hear 
the  bass  drum  stroked,  bringing  out  all  its  bass  vibra- 
tions, memory  jerks  me  back  to  the  unerring  slash  of  the 
sacrificial  knife  at  Buno's  kraal  in  Lebombo.  I  know 
that  for  months  afterward  I  used  to  hear  those  shields 
in  that  brief  moment  between  wakefulness  and  sleep. 

Labotsibeni  had  gone  when  I  reached  camp.  Oom 
Tuys  was  pacing  up  and  down,  smoking  his  great  pipe 
and  waiting  for  me.  He  gave  me  a  hug  when  I  reached 
the  firelight  and  seemed  quite  relieved  at  seeing  me. 

116 


\ 

ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"I  was  worried,  you  were  so  long,"  he  said.  "Buno's 
death  means  trouble  in  Swaziland,  and  I  was  afraid  you 
might  have  been  captured  as  a  hostage  or  even  kiUed. 
Tell  me,  what  did  you  see?" 

Then  I  told  him  all  about  the  sacrifice.  I  found  my- 
self strangely  tired  and  lay  down  while  I  talked.  Tuys 
listened  without  interruption  until  I  had  finished.  Then 
he  asked,  "Are  you  sure  there  were  ten  indunas 
sacrificed?" 

I  told  him  I  was  sure,  because  I  had  mechanically 
counted  them  when  they  stood  before  the  fire. 

"Then  I  am  safe,"  he  replied.  "If  ten  have  been 
killed,  there  will  be  no  more.  Ten  is  the  royal  number, 
and  there  must  not  be  one  more  or  less.    Good !" 

Then  he  told  me  about  Queen  Labotsibeni's  visit.  It 
seems  she  had  called  on  "The  White  King  of  Swaziland" 
for  his  help  in  a  matter  of  importance  to  the  state. 
Buno's  death  had  left  the  throne  vacant.  Queen  Tzaneen 
could  not  reign  because  she  was  not  a  native-bom 
Swazi.  Her  child,  if  a  man,  could  not  become  king  until 
he  became  of  age.  Hence  the  throne  was  vacant,  and 
Labotsibeni  wanted  Tuys  to  use  his  influence  to  have 
her  recognized  as  queen  by  the  British  and  Boers. 

"The  old  lady  is  right,"  he  said.  "She  is  the  only  one 
able  to  rule  Swaziland.  Every  one  knows  that  she 
practically  ruled  as  the  royal  queen  of  King  Umbandine 
and  during  Buno's  reign  she  was  always  the  power  be- 
hind the  throne.  Most  of  the  time  she  was  not  very 
far  behind,  either! 

117 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"She  is  very  keen.  She  demanded  that  I  pay  the 
tribute  to  her  in  place  of  Buno!  I  told  her  that  she 
could  have  the  gin,  but  that  I  could  not  give  her  the  gold 
without  permission  from  Oom  Paul.  She  didn't  like 
that  very  much,  but  I  was  able  to  make  her  see  that  I 
was  right.  To-morrow  I  shall  take  her  the  gin  and 
she  '11  have  to  be  satisfied  with  that. 

"I  shall  recommend  that  Labotsibeni  be  appointed 
regent  until  the  right  king  is  found.  Umzulek,  I  hear, 
thinks  that  he  ought  to  succeed  Buno,  and  there  is  talk 
that  he  will  take  the  throne  by  force.  I  shall  have  to 
prevent  that." 

Exhausted  as  I  was,  I  found  sleep  difficult  that  night. 
For  some  time  I  lay  there  listening  to  Tuys's  regular 
breathing  and  afraid  that  he  might  snore,  as  he  did 
sometimes.  If  he  had,  I  know  I  could  not  have  stood 
it — each  deep  note  would  have  started  the  shields  drum- 
ming again. 

We  were  up  at  dawn  next  morning  and  never  did  that 
first  cup  of  coffee  taste  so  good.  Buno  was  to  be  buried 
that  day  and  I  hoped  to  see  a  ceremony.  Before  we  had 
breakfasted  a  score  of  Labotsibeni's  warriors,  led  by  a 
lesser  induna,  arrived  as  our  escort  for  the  day.  They 
brought  word  that  Buno  would  be  "taken  to  the  caves 
when  the  shadows  were  least,"  or  at  noon.  The  indunas 
who  had  been  sacrificed,  however,  were  being  buried 
during  the  morning.  So  we  decided  to  attend  the 
funerals. 

I  was  much  disappointed.    There  were  no  ceremon- 

118 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

ials.  In  fact,  the  most  exciting  thing  that  happened  was 
that  one  of  the  junior  witch-doctors  was  bitten  by  a 
snake  and  speedily  died.  The  indunas  were  buried  in  a 
tangled  patch  of  brush  and  tall  grass,  with  a  few  trees 
breaking  its  monotony.  This  was  set  apart  for  indunas 
only,  the  plain  people  being  buried  anywhere  they  hap- 
pened to  die.  All  the  important  chiefs  of  Swaziland  had 
been  buried  there  ever  since  the  days  of  King  Umban- 
dine,  yet  the  place  was  absolutely  unkempt  and  full  of 
snakes. 

When  we  arrived  at  Buno's  kraal,  the  bodies  of  the 
indunas  were  laid  out  in  a  row.  Near  each  stood  witch- 
doctors and  warriors.  Not  far  away  were  a  number  of 
women  and  children.  These  were  the  wives  of  the  dead 
men. 

As  we  came  up  an  order  was  given  and  the  warriors 
lifted  up  the  bodies.  Each  band  of  pall-bearers  was  led 
by  a  witch-doctor,  while  the  widows  and  children  of  each 
induna  fell  in  behind.  There  was  no  wailing  or  mourn- 
dng — the  women  seemed  as  stoical  as  their  departed 
husbands  had  been  when  they  faced  the  knife  on  the 
night  before. 

All  the  women  had  their  heads  shaved  as  a  sign  that 
their  husbands  were  dead.  This  is  their  custom.  From 
her  earliest  girlhood  the  Swazi  woman  trains  her  hair 
to  grow  in  a  sort  of  cone  or  pyramid.  When  her  hus- 
band dies  the  hair  is  shaved  right  up  to  this  mound, 
leaving  much  of  the  head  bare.  The  daughters  of  these 
widows  had  their  heads  entirely  shaved.     This  also  is 

119 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

the  custom,  so  it  is  quite  possible  to  tell  for  whom  the 
Swazi  women  mourn  and  also  how  recent  is  their  loss. 

Tuys  and  I  followed  the  procession  to  the  burial 
ground — "The  Place  of  Indunas,"  they  call  it — and 
saw  the  simple  ceremonies.  These  only  consisted  of 
placing  the  body  in  a  shallow  hole,  scratching  the  dirt 
over  it,  and  then  piling  rocks  on  top. 

Beside  each  grave  was  placed  a  pot  of  corn-meal  and 
some  uncooked  meat,  so  that  the  induna  might  have 
food  if  he  should  come  back.  This  was  the  only  sug- 
gestion of  future  life.  The  Swazi  is  a  very  primitive 
savage;  he  has  no  hell  or  heaven  and,  under  normal 
circumstances,  no  god.  Their  only  supernatural  belief 
is  in  a  sort  of  evil  spirit  or  devil.  This  devil,  however, 
is  under  the  control  of  the  ruler  and  usually  is  most 
active  in  sending  or  holding  back  the  rain  so  necessary 
to  the  scanty  crops  grown  by  the  Swazis. 

In  connection  with  this  devil  it  is  important  to  know 
that  Queen  Labotsibeni  was  the  "rain-maker"  of 
Swaziland.  This  gave  her  great  power,  since  the  natives 
fully  believed  in  her  supernatural  powers.  How  she 
gained  this  control  over  the  devil  is  an  interesting  chap- 
ter in  Swazi  history. 

In  the  old  days  the  Zulu  chiefs  possessed  this  rain- 
making  gift,  which  was  supposed  to  be  vested  in  a  small 
round  stone  called  the  "rain  stone."  When  Ama-Swazi 
led  the  rebellion  against  the  Zulus  and  broke  away  from 
them,  he  captured  this  stone  and  took  it  with  him. 
Much  of  his  ascendancy  was  based  on  its  possession. 

120 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Umbandine,  his  son,  inherited  the  stone,  and  Queen 
Labotsibeni  promptly  annexed  it  on  his  death.  King 
Buno  never  owned  it,  and  during  his  entire  reign  his 
mother  provided  the  rain  for  Swaziland. 

Labotsibeni  was  wise  in  her  way  and  made  the  "rain 
stone"  a  source  of  revenue.  Now  and  then  dry  spells 
strike  Swaziland,  and  the  hot  sun  burns  up  the  crops 
and  causes  much  suffering.  At  such  a  time  the  indunas 
came  to  the  old  queen  and  begged  her  to  make  rain.  She 
always  went  through  some  incantation  before  assenting, 
and  then  announced  her  price.  It  was  usually  a  portion 
of  corn  from  each  kraal,  the  total  amounting  to  many 
bushels.  When  this  was  paid,  she  agreed  to  make  rain. 
It  is  peculiar  that  she  was  often  successful  and  that  rain 
followed  shortly  after  her  promise. 

If,  however,  the  rain  did  not  come,  she  would  an- 
nounce that  one  of  her  chiefs  was  plotting  against  her 
and  that  she  had  surrendered  the  rule  of  the  weather  to 
the  devil  so  that  he  might  punish  her  people.  On  such 
occasions  her  wrath  was  terrible,  and  this  is  probably  one 
of  the  reasons  why  she  was  so  feared.  Tuys  told  me  that 
Labotsibeni  in  a  rage  was  a  "perfect  she-devil"  and 
that  even  her  indunas  would  run  to  avoid  her.  She  was 
a  wise  old  queen ;  no  matter  how  the  weather  acted,  she 
had  it  arranged  so  that  she  could  not  lose! 

On  the  way  out  of  the  indunas'  burying-ground,  the 
witch-doctor  stepped  on  a  snake.  We  came  up  to  him 
as  he  sat  waiting  for  death,  the  body  of  the  adder  beside 
him  with  its  head  crushed.    He  rocked  slowly  back  and 

121 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

forth,  looking  straight  ahead  and  making  no  sound.  I 
wanted  to  do  something  for  him. 

"What 's  the  use,  lad?"  Tuys  said.  "There  is  no  cure 
for  the  puff-adder's  bite,  unless  you  have  a  drug-shop 
along.  He  must  die,  and  die  soon,  and  he  knows  it. 
Come  on,  unless  you  want  to  see  him  go?" 

I  most  certainly  did  not,  so  we  went  along,  keeping 
our  eyes  on  the  ground  lest  we  run  afoul  of  a  snake.  I 
looked  back  a  moment  later  and  saw  that  the  stricken 
man  had  laid  down,  and  then  I  knew  that  his  suffering 
would  soon  be  over.  None  of  the  other  natives  seemed 
to  give  a  second  thought  to  him;  under  Buno's  rule 
they  had  grown  more  callous  than  ever. 

It  was  almost  noon  when  we  reached  Buno's  kraal, 
and  there  was  a  large  gathering  of  witch-doctors  about 
his  hut.  The  witch-doctors  of  our  burial-party  joined 
them,  and  Tuys  informed  me  that  practically  all  the 
witch-doctors  in  Swaziland  were  there. 

"Now  would  be  a  good  time  for  some  target  practice," 
he  said  grimly.  "In  about  five  minutes  a  few  quick 
shots  could  remove  most  of  the  sources  of  trouble  in 
this  country.  If  those  witch-doctors  were  all  killed, 
Swaziland  would  be  a  happier  land." 

Soon  the  head  witch-doctor — the  one  who  did  the 
butchering  so  well  the  night  before — detached  himself 
from  the  group  and  began  to  look  at  the  sun.  He  stood 
his  wand  on  the  ground  and  studied  its  shadow.  After 
a  time  this  seemed  to  satisfy  him,  and  he  sent  two  of  the 
others  out  of  the  kraal  on  the  run.    Shortly  after  came 

122 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

the  sound  of  many  feet,  and  soon  the  royal  impi  filed 
into  the  enclosure.  The  warriors  ranged  themselves  on 
either  side  of  the  pathway,  just  as  I  had  so  often  seen 
them  do  before. 

When  they  were  in  place  the  chief  doctor  went  into 
Buno's  hut.  Out  he  came  a  few  minutes  later,  with  six 
others  carrying  the  body  of  the  king.  As  they  swung  it 
to  their  shoulders  the  impi  saluted.  After  the  third 
thud  of  stamping  feet  the  chief  doctor  started  down  the 
lane  of  warriors.  Behind  him  came  those  bearing  the 
body,  with  the  other  doctors  following  them.  Last  of 
all  came  a  number  of  unarmed  men  carrying  fresh-killed 
beef,  corn,  and  pots  of  tswala. 

This  was  the  king's  funeral  cortege  proper.  When 
it  reached  the  end  of  the  impi,  the  warriors  turned  and 
followed  in  marching  order,  acting  as  escort.  Tuys  and 
I  dropped  in  behind.  I  was  very  curious  to  see  "the 
caves"  where  Buno  was  to  be  buried.  As  we  followed 
the  slow  procession,  Tuys  told  me  about  them. 

"No  white  man  has  ever  entered  these  caves,"  he  said. 
"They  are  a  little  distance  up  the  mountain  and  are 
said  to  be  immense.  The  witch-doctors  are  the  only 
natives  who  ever  enter  them,  and  they  tell  queer  tales 
about  what  goes  on.  They  say  that  there  are  rivers  and 
smoke  and  bright  lights  in  some  of  the  caves.  I  don't 
believe  this,  of  course,  but  they  say  it.  I  think  that  the 
mystery  of  the  caves  is  part  of  the  foolishness  practiced 
by  these  witch-doctors  and  is  only  trumped  up  to  keep 
the  people  away.    Not  long  ago  when  I  asked  a  witch- 

123 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

doctor  if  he  would  show  me  King  Umbandine's  grave 
in  the  caves,  he  pretended  to  be  much  frightened  and 
told  me  that  the  devil  lived  in  the  caves  and  would  be 
angry  if  a  white  man  entered  them. 

"Only  the  kings  of  Swaziland  are  buried  in  the  caves. 
Ama-Swazi  was  the  first.  His  body  was  brought  up 
from  his  kraal  in  the  low  country.  Umbandine  is  there, 
and  now  Buno  is  going  to  join  them.  I  suppose  Labot- 
sibeni  will  have  the  honor  when  she  dies,  although  it  is 
quite  likely  that  the  witch-doctors  will  refuse  to  allow  a 
woman  to  be  buried  there." 

The  caves  were  about  four  miles  from  the  royal  kraal 
at  Lebombo  and  much  of  the  trail  was  uphill.  We 
reached  them  in  about  an  hour,  and  I  saw  that  there 
were  a  number  of  entrances,  all  fissures  in  the  rocks. 

The  procession  stopped  and  the  bearers  were  relieved 
by  six  others.  The  change  was  made  without  laying 
the  king's  body  on  the  ground.  This  was  in  accordance 
with  the  ancient  customs — a  king's  body  must  not  touch 
the  ground  from  the  time  it  starts  on  its  last  trek  until 
it  is  laid  at  rest  in  the  caves. 

The  new  bearers  faced  about  and  raised  the  body  high 
above  their  heads.  While  they  held  it  there  the  royal 
impi  gave  their  dead  king  his  last  salute.  Then  the 
witch-doctors  took  the  food  from  the  unarmed  men  and 
a  moment  later  the  entire  band  of  "priests"  disappeared 
among  the  rocks.  That  was  the  last  of  Buno,  rightly 
called  "The  Terrible,"  the  most  powerful  and  cruel  king 
Swaziland  has  ever  had.    The  impi  turned  and  started 

124 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

down  the  trail  at  a  smart  pace,  leaving  Tuys  and  me 
behind.  These  great  warriors  seemed  glad  that  the 
funeral  was  over.  They  swung  by  us  with  light  steps, 
many  of  them  grinning  at  the  white  men  as  they  went 
by. 

Now  I  was  very  curious  to  know  what  was  inside  the 
caves.  There  was  so  much  mystery  about  them  that  it 
fired  my  youthful  imagination.  I  spoke  of  this  to  Tuys 
and  was  pleased  to  find  that  he  also  was  curious. 

"Yes,  I  'd  like  to  have  a  look  at  them,"  he  said.  "Buno 
and  Labotsibeni  have  told  me  some  queer  yarns  about 
them,  and  they  are  the  one  thing  in  Swaziland  that  I 
am  not  familiar  with.  Let 's  see  if  we  can't  get  into 
them." 

The  witch-doctors  had  not  come  out  yet,  and  we  de- 
cided to  wait  until  they  did.  I  suggested  that  they  were 
engaged  in  some  ceremony,  but  Tuys,  knowing  the 
native,  would  not  agree  with  me. 

"Those  humbugs  are  probably  eating  the  food  and 
drinking  the  good  beer,"  he  said,  with  a  snort  of  disgust. 
"I  'd  hate  to  believe  that  they  'd  let  it  go  to  waste.  I  '11 
bet  that  Buno  will  go  hungry  if  he  comes  back!" 

Expecting  that  they  would  soon  come  out,  we  hid 
behind  some  rocks,  feeling  sure  that  they  would  think 
we  had  gone  back  with  the  impi.  Our  guess  was  good. 
In  a  little  while  we  saw  them  tramping  down  the  trail. 
As  soon  as  they  passed  the  bend  from  beyond  which  the 
entrances  to  the  caves  could  not  be  seen,  we  started  on 
our  exploration. 

125 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

There  seemed  to  be  any  number  of  ways  into  these 
mysterious  caves.  However,  Tuys's  training  led  him  to 
follow  the  footprints  of  the  witch-doctors.  They  must 
have  come  out  by  another  route,  for  all  the  prints  faced 
inward. 

Tuys  led,  and  I  noticed  that  he  was  carrying  his 
revolver  in  his  hand,  ready  for  instant  use.  We  passed 
between  a  number  of  great  rocks,  all  of  which  seemed  to 
be  split  by  some  terrific  force.  But  we  did  not  go  far. 
There  came  a  sharp  turn  to  the  right,  and  straight  in 
front  of  us  was  the  entrance  to  the  caves.  In  front  of 
it  stood  six  witch-doctors  with  assegais  drawn  back, 
ready  to  strike! 

Tuys  did  not  hesitate  long  enough  to  take  one  breath. 
He  wheeled  in  his  tracks  and  we  turned  back.  We  did 
not  run  or  make  unseemly  haste,  but  we  certainly  moved 
faster  than  we  had  come  in.  When  we  reached  the  out- 
side, Tuys  made  but  one  remark. 

"Serves  us  right!"  he  exclaimed.     "I  ought  to  have  ' 
had  sense  enough  to  count  those  witch-doctors." 

I  remember  that  it  was  a  hot  walk  back  to  our  camp. 
Probably  our  chagrin  added  to  the  temperature. 

To  this  day  no  white  man  has  penetrated  the  caves. 
I  hope  to  do  so  the  next  time  I  visit  Swaziland.  I  never 
had  a  chance  on  my  subsequent  visits,  but  I  shall  cer- 
tainly find  a  way  the  next  time.  The  thought  is  fascinat- 
ing, but  I  suppose  I  shall  be  disappointed  if  I  ever  do 
explore  this  royal  burial-place.  Like  most  things  in 
^»**?,  it  will  fail  to  come  up  to  expectations. 

126 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Not  long  after  we  reached  our  camp  several  indunas 
and  a  small  band  of  warriors  called  on  Tuys.  They 
were  part  of  the  bodyguard  of  Labotsibeni  and  had 
come  on  a  special  errand. 

"Nkoos,  White  King,"  the  chief  induna  began  with 
much  ceremony,  "the  great  Queen  Labotsibeni  sends  me 
to  you  with  a  message.  Even  now  she,  the  mother  of 
Buno,  waits  your  answer." 

I  was  interested  to  see  that  he  spoke  of  Buno  as 
though  that  cruel  ruler  still  lived.  The  thought  came 
to  me  that  his  infamy  would  keep  him  aKve  for  some 
time,  at  least  in  the  memories  of  those  who  had  witnessed 
any  of  his  bloody  pastimes. 

Tuys  did  not  seem  to  understand  what  the  induna 
was  driving  at,  and  he  asked  several  questions.  The 
chief  said  that  the  old  queen  had  instructed  him  to  ask 
Tuys  if  her  "white  brother"  did  not  remember  his  prom- 
ise. She  was  waiting  for  him  to  fulfil  what  he  had  said 
he  would  do.  There  was  some  more  palaver,  and  then 
Tuys  suddenly  woke  up. 

"Why,  the  old  girl  wants  her  gin  I"  he  said,  laughing. 
Then  he  got  out  four  small  cases  of  it  and  presented 
them  to  the  induna. 

"I  *d  go  along  with  him,"  Tuys  said  to  me  in  Dutch, 
"if  I  was  not  afraid  that  I'd  have  to  lie  to  the  old  queen. 
She  wants  the  job  of  ruling  Swaziland  until  the  question 
of  the  new  king  is  decided,  and  she  expects  me  to  get  the 
British  to  acknowledge  her  as  regent.     I  do  n't  know 

127 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

what  I  '11  be  able  to  do,  and  if  I  promise  that  she  will 
get  the  job,  and  she  does  n't  get  it,  I  '11  be  in  a  fine 
pickle !  I  think  I  '11  avoid  her,  and  we  'd  better  get 
going  to-night  and  make  a  break  for  Rietvlei." 


128 


—   ft 


CHAPTER   IX 

Sibijaan's  sportiveness  almost  costs  his  life — How  Tuys  became  the  friend 
of  Biino — Labotsibeni  endorsed  as  regent  of  Swaziland — Umzulek  plots 
to  seize  the  throne — The  Boers  invade  Swaziland — Tuys  dictates  peace 
between  the  queens — Umzulek  gets  his  lesson. 

THE  midday  siesta  period  was  about  over  and  the 
kraals  were  beginning  to  show  signs  of  life  again. 
The  native  women  were  going  about  their  domestic 
duties  and  the  men,  as  usual,  were  resting  in  the  shade 
and  furbishing  their  weapons.  Our  activity  in  breaking 
camp  did  not  attract  much  attention,  except  on  the  part 
of  the  usual  number  of  small  boys,  and  before  long  we 
were  on  the  trail  to  the  Valley  of  Heaven.  We  only 
traveled  about  half  as  fast  as  we  had  come  in  and  were 
constantly  being  held  up  by  crowds  going  in  the  same 
direction.  Thousands  upon  thousands  had  come  to  see 
the  sacrifice  of  the  ten  indunas  and  were  now  returning 
to  their  homes. 

Sibijaan  nearly  got  us  into  a  pretty  row  shortly  be- 
fore we  struck  the  valley.  He  was  driving  the  wagon 
with  its  four  mules,  and  began  to  get  impatient  over  the 
crowded  roadway.  He  got  careless  with  his  sjambok 
and  flicked  a  tall  Swazi  warrior  on  a  naked  but  impor- 
tant part  of  his  anatomy.  Now  the  sjambok  cuts  like 
a  knife,  and  the  savage  gave  a  tremendous  jump.  In 
fact,  he  seemed  to  me  to  jump  twice — once  straight  up 

129 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

in  the  air  and  the  second  time  toward  the  wagon,  brand- 
ishing his  assegai  and  shouting. 

Sibijaan  dived  into  the  wagon  under  the  cover,  and 
the  enraged  induna  dashed  round  to  the  rear  of  the 
vehicle  in  the  hope  that  its  driver  was  trying  to  escape 
that  way.  Then  ensued  a  sort  of  merry-go-round,  the 
induna  dashing  madly  from  front  to  back  of  the  wagon 
and  Sibijaan  trying  to  keep  one  guess  ahead  of  him. 
Both  were  yelling,  and  Tuys  and  I  hurried  to  stop  the 
trouble.  However,  we  were  too  late !  The  induna  sud- 
denly stopped  at  the  side  of  the  wagon  where  he  could 
watch  the  front,  his  spear  poised  for  murder.  He  was 
the  cat  watching  the  rat-hole,  the  hunter  awaiting  his 
prey. 

Tuys  snatched  his  revolver  from  its  holster  and  was 
just  aiming  at  the  savage  when  we  saw  the  flap  of  the 
wagon-cover  lifted  just  a  little  and  a  thin  arm  come  out. 
In  the  hand  was  a  short  knob-kerrie,  and  it  caught  the 
irate  chief  on  the  back  of  the  head  with  one  fell  sweep. 
Down  he  came  with  a  crash,  his  shield  thudding  as  it  hit 
the  ground. 

A  second  later  Sibijaan  hopped  out  of  the  wagon, 
knife  in  hand,  evidently  intending  to  finish  the  job. 
Tuys  reached  down  from  his  horse  and  swung  the  little 
beggar  up  before  him,  where  he  gave  him  a  good  spank- 
ing. That  was  the  end  of  the  incident,  since  the  induna 
found  himself  looking  into  the  business  end  of  Tuys's 
revolver  when  he  woke  up  from  his  trance. 

Late  that  evening  we  camped  in  the  Valley  of  Heaven. 

130 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

We  passed  several  kraals  in  our  leisurely  progress  and 
talked  with  some  of  the  indunas.  None  of  them  seemed 
very  sorry  that  Buno  was  gone,  but  there  was  a  gen- 
eral expression  of  anxiety  concerning  the  next  ruler. 
Most  of  them  thought  that  Labotsibeni  should  get  the 
job,  but  not  a  few  favored  Umzulek — in  fact,  there 
seemed  to  be  quite  a  strong  Umzulek  sentiment. 

During  our  next  day's  trek  I  asked  Oom  Tuys  how 
it  happened  that  he  and  Buno  were  such  good  friends. 
Tuys  explained  that  he  had  originally  befriended  Buno 
and  the  Swazis  because  the  Boers  wanted  the  Swazis  as 
a  sort  of  bulwark  against  the  British.  On  several  oc- 
casions Tuys  had  been  able  to  save  land  for  Buno  when 
certain  of  the  English  had  tried  to  get  it  away  from 
him,  and  this  had  made  the  savage  his  good  friend  for 
life.    Incidentally,  it  helped  the  Boer  cause. 

"The  one  great  thing  I  did  for  Buno,"  Tuys  went  on, 
"was  about  two  years  ago  when  Oom  Paul  decided  to 
discipline  him.  One  of  my  bodyguard  had  talked  too 
much  in  Pretoria  and  the  President  had  learned  about 
the  bloody  atrocities  Buno  was  committing.  It  seems 
the  story  that  really  outraged  Oom  Paul's  feelings  was 
one  about  Buno  having  some  young  girls  cut  open. 

"Oom  Paul  sent  for  me  and  asked  me  about  this.  Nat- 
urally, I  knew  nothing  about  it.  How  could  I  ?  If  I  'd 
seen  it,  it  was  my  duty  to  report  it,  wasn't  it?  If  I 
had  n't  seen  it,  how  could  I  know  anything  about  it?  Of 
course  I  could  n't  tell  Oom  Paul  that  Buno  and  I  had 
an  important  business  deal  on  at  that  time,  could  I? 

131 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"Somehow  or  other  I  don't  think  Oom  Paul  believed 
me.  He  sent  word  to  Buno  that  he  must  behave  and 
stop  killing  people,  and  Buno  sent  word  back  that  Paul 
had  better  ^lind  his  own  business,  or  words  to  that 
general  effect.  The  fool  thought  that  I  would  protect 
him  and  that  he  could  get  cheeky  with  Oom  Paul! 

"Well,  the  old  man  had  had  enough  of  Buno's  non- 
sense and  he  sent  a  command  of  about  five  thousand  men 
into  Swaziland  to  smash  him.  Instead  of  leaving  me  out 
of  it,  our  cunning  President  sent  me  along  as  second-in- 
comimand.  I  was  the  guide  and  all  that  sort  of  thing, 
and  had  to  practically  assure  Buno's  getting  jolly  well 
licked,  if  not  killed.  After  some  days  we  got  to  within 
twenty  miles  of  Lebombo  and  planned  to  attack  the 
royal  kraal  at  dawn  next  morning. 

"I  did  not  like  the  idea  of  Buno  being  captured,  be- 
cause I  knew  that  would  be  the  end  of  him.  Oom  Paul 
was  not  in  the  mood  to  stand  further  nonsense.  That 
night  I  was  in  command  of  the  sentries,  and  shortly  after 
dark  I  placed  my  sergeant  in  charge  and  sneaked  off  to 
the  kraal  of  a  chief  who  lived  near  where  we  were 
camped.  He  knew  me,  and  from  him  I  got  a  good  horse. 
Then  I  rode  like  the  devil  to  Lebombo  and  warned  Buno 
what  was  going  to  happen. 

"I  got  back  to  our  camp  just  as  the  commando  was 
saddling  up  to  move  to  the  attack.  We  rode  hard  and 
reached  the  kraal  about  four  o'clock — to  find  the  entire 
place  empty.  There  was  n't  a  single  Swazi  there !  The 
king  and  all  his  warriors  had  flown.    So  we  were  ordered 

132 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

to  pursue  him,  and  I  led  the  way.  Later  I  learned 
that  we  had  gone  in  exactly  the  wrong  direction,  so  Buno 
escaped. 

"Oom  Paul  decided  that  Buno  had  learned  his  lesson 
and  would  behave  thereafter,  since  he  had  been  shown 
that  the  Boers  would  come  and  get  him  if  he  did  not. 
However,  Buno  felt  that  I  would  always  pull  him  out 
of  any  hole  he  might  get  into,  so  the  lesson  was  lost  on 
him.  One  thing  Oom  Paul  did  accomphsh,  however, 
and  that  was  to  make  Buno  realize  what  a  good  friend 
I  was!" 

My  mother  was  very  glad  to  see  us  when  we  reached 
Rietvlei.  Father  had  returned,  and  he  spoke  sharply 
to  Tuys  for  taking  me  with  him  on  so  dangerous  a  trip. 
Tuys  told  him  that  he  had  Buno's  word  for  our  safety, 
but  that  did  not  much  impress  my  father. 

"The  word  of  a  kaffir  is  good  so  long  as  he  remem- 
bers," he  said,  "but  you  know  that  the  best  of  them 
are  children,  and  children  forget.  It  was  lucky  you 
came  out  as  soon  as  you  did.  From  what  you  have  told 
me  and  from  what  I  've  heard  conditions  are  likely  to 
be  bad  in  Swaziland  until  the  government  selects  a 
ruler." 

Tuys  and  he  then  began  discussing  what  should  be 
done  about  this.  Father,  I  found,  knew  all  about  the 
politics  of  Swaziland,  and  he  agreed  with  Tuys  that  the 
old  queen  was  the  right  person  to  rule  until  a  king  was 
set  up.  Their  talk  ended  with  my  father  writing  a  letter 
for  Tuys  to  take  to  Oom  Paul.    He  recommended  that 

133 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Labotsibeni  be  recognized  as  regent  for  the  time  being, 
or  until  Queen  Tzaneen's  child  was  born.  If  the  child 
was  a  boy,  he  would  be  the  next  king  of  Swaziland ;  if  a 
girl,  arrangements  would  have  to  be  made  for  one  of 
Buno's  brothers  to  take  the  throne. 

Buno  had  a  number  of  brothers,  among  whom  were 
Lomwazi,  Umzulek,  Debeseembie,  and  one  other  whose 
name  I  have  forgotten  but  who  was  known  as  a  drunk- 
ard and  a  generally  disreputable  character. 

Oom  Tuys  left  next  morning  to  report  conditions  to 
Oom  Paul,  and  we  heard  nothing  for  several  months. 
Finally,  on  the  new  moon,  about  three  months  later, 
messengers  came  to  Rietvlei  from  Queen  Labotsibeni. 
Tuys  was  with  us,  having  arrived  several  days  before. 

After  the  usual  salutes  and  other  ceremonial  the  head 
induna  spoke: 

"Nkoos,  the  queen  mother  sends  to  you  in  her  trouble. 
Her  son,  the  late  King  Buno,  gave  you  guardianship 
over  Swaziland  and  Queen  Labotsibeni  wants  your 
counsel.  Even  now  Queen  Tzaneen,  the  royal  widow, 
gives  birth.  We  do  not  yet  know  whether  it  will  be  a 
man-child  or  not.  Umzulek  plots  to  take  the  throne  by 
force  and  is  mustering  his  impis.  Thousands  are  flock- 
ing to  his  support  and  the  impis  of  the  queens  are  gath- 
ering at  Zombode.  If  you  do  not  come  quickly,  there 
will  be  war  in  our  country.  Queen  Labotsibeni  prays 
that  you  come  and  prevent  war." 

This  was  the  situation  that  father  and  Tuys  had 
feared.    Tuys  had  his  orders  from  Oom  Paul  and  knew 

134 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

what  he  was  to  do.    He  told  the  induna  what  to  expect. 

"Tell  your  queen,"  he  said,  "that  I  am  coming  within 
three  days  with  a  great  army  of  white  men.  Tell  her 
that  I  shall  see  that  the  throne  is  preserved  to  the 
dynasty  and  that  none  except  the  one  to  whom  it  right- 
fully belongs  shall  become  king  of  Swaziland." 

With  this  message  the  induna  withdrew,  and  we  saw 
him  and  his  men  leaving  at  top  speed  to  carry  these 
words  of  cheer  to  Labotsibeni.  Then  came  a  hurried 
mobilization  of  all  the  fighting  Boers  within  a  day's  ride 
of  Rietvlei.  Word  was  sent  far  and  wide  over  the  veldt 
— to  the  outlying  farms,  to  the  small  towns,  to  Belfast, 
and  to  every  place  where  men  might  be  found. 

Within  three  days  the  Valley  of  Reeds  became  an 
armed  camp.  There  were  more  than  a  thousand  well 
armed,  hard-riding  Boers  waiting  for  the  word  to  trek 
into  Swaziland.  These  people  of  ours  were  a  hardy 
lot.  There  were  men  of  sixty  and  even  seventy  years, 
and  mixed  in  with  them  were  their  sons  and  grandsons, 
many  of  the  latter  being  boys  of  sixteen  and  seventeen. 
All,  however,  were  well  armed  and  serious.  They  were 
on  a  serious  business  and  stood  ready  to  die  in  the 
service  of  their  great  leader,  Oom  Paul. 

At  dawn  on  the  fourth  day  we  started.  From  the 
very  beginning  it  was  a  hard  ride.  The  burghers  rode 
in  what  was  practically  military  formation,  two  by  two, 
with  Tuys  leading.  I  went  along  as  his  aide  and  rode  as 
close  to  him  as  the  trails  would  permit.  I  have  often 
thought  of  that  trek.    The  feeling  between  Boers  and 

135 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

British  was  getting  more  bitter  every  day,  and  these 
Boer  farmers  were  really  taking  a  training  march  for 
the  dark  days  that  were  to  come  so  soon.  It  was  a  heart- 
ening sight  to  look  back  on  our  cavalcade  and  see  the 
great  hats  bobbing  up  and  down,  the  lean,  wiry  ponies, 
the  ready  rifles,  and  the  grim  faces,  most  of  them 
bearded. 

We  took  no  natives  with  us.  Our  food  was  biltong 
and  rusks,  and  each  man  carried  enough  to  last  him  for 
two  weeks.  Every  Boer  took  care  of  his  own  horse  and 
did  everything  for  himself.  It  was  felt  that  there  might 
be  trouble,  and  Tuys  never  trusted  the  kaffirs  in  a  tight 
place. 

During  the  morning  of  the  second  day's  trek,  not 
long  after  we  had  passed  the  Vaal  River,  we  were  met  by 
several  indunas  and  a  small  impi.  They  stood  in  the 
middle  of  the  roadway  making  peace  signs,  and  Tuys 
brought  our  little  army  to  a  halt.  Then  he  and  I  rode 
forward  and  waited. 

The  chief  induna  came  to  meet  us.  I  recognized  him 
as  one  of  those  whom  I  had  seen  in  Queen  Tzaneen's 
train  and  knew  that  he  came  from  her. 

"Nkoos,  Queen  Tzaneen  sent  me  to  you,"  he  said 
to  Tuys,  with  all  humility.  "Yesterday  she  gave  birth 
to  a  prince,  the  rightful  heir  to  the  throne!  She  sends 
you  the  message  that  she  is  afraid  that  Umzulek  will 
kill  her  son.  Even  now  she  is  afraid  to  leave  Lebombo. 
Also,  Queen  Tzaneen  asks  that  you  protect  her  from 

136 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Queen  Labotsibeni  and  prevent  the  queen  mother  from 
seizing  the  throne." 

Tuys  listened  to  his  message  and  then  asked  what  was 
really  going  on  in  Swaziland.  The  induna  told  him  that 
Umzulek  had  gathered  his  impis  together  and  it  was 
rumored  that  he  would  take  the  throne  by  force.  Queen 
Labotsibeni  had  gathered  all  her  warriors,  and  it  was 
understood  that  she  would  fight  to  keep  Umzulek  from 
becoming  ruler.  Queen  Tzaneen,  on  her  side,  had 
mustered  all  the  men  who  remained  faithful  to  the  mem- 
ory of  King  Buno,  and  it  was  said  that  she  would  take 
the  throne  if  she  could  muster  enough  force  to  do  it. 
Taking  it  all  in  all,  the  stage  was  set  for  a  bloody  civil 
strife  in  Swaziland. 

"It  looks  as  though  we  had  work  ahead,"  Tuys  said  to 
me  in  Dutch,  after  the  induna  had  related  these  events. 
"Well,  we  have  our  job  to  do  and  the  sooner  we  get  it 
over  the  better." 

Then  he  turned  to  the  induna. 

"Tell  your  queen  that  we  have  heard  the  story  and 
will  take  care  of  her,"  he  directed  him.  Tuys  then  gave 
the  word  to  continue  our  march. 

Unlike  all  other  armies,  our  little  force  was  truly 
democratic  and  every  man  was  entitled  to  know  what 
out  task  was  to  be.  Tuys  sent  for  several  of  the  leaders, 
men  who  headed  the  commandos  of  their  districts,  and 
told  them  about  the  political  situation  in  Swaziland. 

"Oom  Paul's  orders  are  that  we  must  secure  the 
throne  for  the  rightful  heir,"  he  said.    "Labotsibeni  must 

137 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

be  appointed  regent  until  the  new  prince  comes  of  age, 
and  it  is  our  job  to  pacify  the  people  and  prevent  war. 
If,  however,  war  there  must  be,  we  shall  strike  first 
and  strike  hard!  We  must  remember  that  death  is 
the  only  argument  that  a  kafftr  understands  and  must 
make  a  clean  job  of  it." 

I  understood  what  a  "clean  job"  meant — ^that  every 
native,  chief  or  plain  warrior,  who  did  not  like  the  con- 
ditions Tuys  laid  down  was  to  be  killed.  It  began  to 
look  as  though  we  should  have  some  hard  fighting  and 
our  devoted  band  of  about  a  thousand  would  find  them- 
selves pitted  against  great  odds. 

We  pushed  our  horses  to  their  limit  and  made  splen- 
did time.  The  Boer  pony  or  veldt-bred  horse  is  almost 
tireless,  and  our  mounts  were  extended  to  the  utmost. 
The  result  was  that  we  reached  Zombode  early  next 
morning. 

When  we  came  in  sight  of  the  kraals  our  cavalry  was 
deployed  in  a  double  rank  about  five  hundred  horses 
wide.  We  trotted  to  the  kraals  in  this  formation,  every 
man  with  his  rifle  on  his  hip,  ready  for  anything.  When 
we  had  halted,  Tuys  acknowledged  the  indunas  that 
had  come  out  to  meet  him.  There  was  no  formality 
about  Tuys  this  time.  He  represented  the  Boer  Gov- 
ernment and  was  there  as  conqueror  to  lay  down  the 
law.  The  indunas  noted  the  difference,  and  I  could  see 
the  sullen  glint  in  their  eyes  as  they  took  their  orders 
from  him. 

"Tell  Queen  Labotsibeni  that  I  am  here,"  Tuys  di- 

138 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

rected.  "I  shall  wait  for  her  only  a  short  time  and  she 
had  better  come  as  quickly  as  she  can." 

Without  a  word  the  indunas  hastened  into  the  royal 
kraal,  while  we  loosened  up  a  bit  and  let  our  horses 
breathe.  The  Boer  knows  how  to  take  care  of  his  mount, 
and  here  and  there  could  be  seen  men  arranging  their 
girths  and  making  their  ponies  more  comfortable. 

In  the  very  shortest  time  Queen  Labotsibeni  came  out 
of  her  kraal,  attended  by  Lomwazi,  her  indunas,  and  a 
number  of  warriors.  The  second  they  came  in  sight 
every  man  of  our  force  was  back  again  in  his  saddle,  his 
rifle  at  the  ready.  The  old  queen  walked  slowly  and 
seemingly  with  difficulty.  She  was  very  tall  and  quite 
fat,  but  carried  herself  with  pride.  As  always,  she  was 
scrupulously  clean,  her  black  face  shining  in  the  early 
morning  sun. 

Labotsibeni  came  to  a  halt  about  twenty  feet  in  front 
of  Tuys  and  me,  and  her  bodyguard  ranged  themselves 
on  either  side  of  her.  They  were  picked  men  and  as  fine 
figures  of  savages  as  was  their  old  queen.  Tuys  let  her 
wait  for  a  moment  and  then  got  off  his  horse,  motioning 
to  me  to  join  him.  We  stepped  forward,  and  this  time 
Tuys  did  not  shake  hands  when  greeting  her. 

"Nkosikaas,  I  have  heard  what  is  going  on  in  Swazi- 
land,'* he  said,  simply  but  very  severely,  "and  I  have 
come  with  my  army  to  see  that  justice  is  done.  I  come 
from  Oom  Paul,  our  great  king,  and  he  has  authorized 
me  to  do  as  I  see  fit. 

"My  order  to  you  is  that  to-morrow  you  meet  me  at 

139 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

the  little  river  which  lies  between  Zombode  and  Le- 
bombo.  You  will  be  there  as  soon  as  the  sun  shines  on 
the  water.  There  will.be  a  conference  and  the  peace  of 
Swaziland  will  be  assured.    I  have  spoken !" 

Labotsibeni  was  a  proud  old  woman  and  did  not  seem 
to  like  to  have  to  take  orders  in  this  fashion.  She  looked 
at  Tuys  for  a  moment  in  a  very  indignant  way,  but 
dropped  her  eyes  when  they  met  his.  She  started  to 
speak,  and  I  could  see  that  she  had  a  lot  to  say,  too. 
Tuys's  glance  cowed  her,  however,  and  after  a  moment 
of  ground-searching  her  eyes  ran  up  and  down  the  ranks 
of  our  determined  army. 

A  moment  later  she  gave  in. 

"Nkoos,  I  shall  be  there,"  she  said,  quite  humbly. 
Then  she  gave  a  sign  to  her  indunas  and  warriors,  and 
all  together  they  gave  Tuys  the  royal  salute.  This 
ended  the  interview.  Without  another  word  Tuys 
shouted  the  command  for  us  to  march,  and  we  started  for 
Lebombo. 

Our  only  stop  was  to  water  the  horses  at  the  little 
river  Tuys  had  mentioned,  and  then  we  pressed  on  to 
Lebombo,  arriving  at  the  kraals  in  the  same  formation 
as  before.  Evidently  the  word  had  gone  ahead  that  we 
were  coming,  for  three  full  impis,  or  about  three  thou- 
sand warriors,  were  lined  up  waiting  for  us. 

As  soon  as  we  came  close  they  gave  us  the  salute, 
showing  that  they  were  not  arrayed  for  hostile  purposes. 
Had  they  been,  they  would  have  stood  a  poor  chance, 
for  our  little  army  would  have  wiped  them  out  in  short 

140 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

order.     As  before,  a  number  of  indunas  came  out  to 
meet  us  and  Tuys  repeated  his  program. 

"I  am  the  law  and  this  is  my  order,"  he  said.  "Tell 
Queen  Tzaneen  I  am  here  and  wait  for  her  to  come  to 
me. 

There  was  no  hesitation  on  the  part  of  the  indunas. 
The  natives  have  an  extraordinary  method  of  getting 
word  to  one  another,  and  they  knew  that  Tuys  came 
on  a  far  diiferent  mission  than  usual.  The  indunas 
bowed  their  heads  submissively,  and  a  short  time  after 
accompanied  Tzaneen  to  our  presence. 

However,  she  was  inclined  to  be  a  little  haughty  and 
carried  herself  proudly.  Tuys  hardly  looked  at  her. 
She,  like  Labotsibeni,  was  a  finely-built  savage,  but  not 
so  fat  as  the  old  queen.  Her  hair  had  grown  out  to 
quite  a  length,  showing  that  Buno  had  been  dead  for 
some  months. 

Tuys  gave  her  the  same  orders  as  he  had  given  Labot- 
sibeni, and  she  agreed  to  meet  him  at  the  river.  Then 
Tuys  asked  for  Umzulek. 

"Umzulek  is  at  his  kraal  half  a  day's  trek  from  here," 
she  informed  him.  "He  has  gathered  his  impis  there 
and  threatens  to  make  war  unless  he  is  made  king. 
Also,  word  has  come  that  he  will  kill  my  child,  the  infant 
Prince  Sebuza,  so  that  none  shall  stand  in  his  way." 

"Your  son,  Nkosikaas,  widow  of  Buno,  shall  be 
safe,"  Tuys  assured  her.  "You  will  send  a  messenger 
to  Umzulek  bidding  him  to  attend  our  conference  at 
the  little  river.    That  is  my  order!" 

141 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

And  so  Tuys  arranged  the  conference  at  which  the 
future  peace  of  Swaziland  was  to  be  secured.  We  rode 
easily  back  to  the  little  stream  and  there  made  our  camp. 
It  was  the  middle  of  the  day  when  we  unsaddled  and, 
except  for  those  on  guard,  we  all  went  to  sleep. 

Late  that  afternoon  Tuys  called  a  council  of  the 
commando  leaders  and  prepared  for  next  morning. 
That  night  we  doubled  our  guards  and  I  stood  watch 
for  several  hours.  It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  done 
this  and  it  was  a  wonderful  experience.  The  bright 
moon  picked  out  every  object  on  the  Httle  plateau  and 
the  stream  seemed  to  be  a  streak  of  rippling  silver.  Our 
camp  was  on  a  small  kopje,  or  hill,  with  the  river  at 
its  base,  and  with  the  first  streaks  of  dawn  we  awoke 
our  men. 

It  was  none  too  soon.  By  the  time  it  was  fully  light 
we  could  see  thousands  of  warriors  coming  from  either 
direction.  These  were  the  impis  of  the  two  queens.  Our 
men,  mounted  and  ready,  formed  a  double  line  around 
the  top  of  the  hill  and  waited.  The  impis  came  closer 
and  stopped  on  either  side  of  the  stream.  They  were 
only  about  a  hundred  yards  apart,  and  the  thought  came 
to  me  that  here  was  the  setting  for  a  fine  battle.  This, 
however,  it  was  our  duty  to  prevent. 

Soon  Tuys  sent  me,  with  a  bodyguard,  to  give  his 
orders  to  the  indunas  who  stood  resting  on  their  shields 
in  front  of  each  army.  These  orders  were  simple.  I 
told  them  that  their  queen  was  to  come  to  the  conference 
immediately  and  that  each  should  bring  only  her  body- 

142 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

guard  with  her.  In  a  short  time  Tzaneen  and  Labot- 
sibeni  arrived  and  were  seated  facing  Tuys  and  a  num- 
ber of  the  commando  leaders. 

There  was  no  formahty  about  the  business  whatever. 
The  first  question  Tuys  asked  was  as  to  the  whereabouts 
of  Umzulek. 

"He  sent  my  messengers  back  in  haste,"  Tzaneen  re- 
ported, "to  say  that  he  was  very  sick  and  could  not 
come.  When  my  induna  said  to  him  that  it  was  an  order, 
he  threatened  to  kill  him,  and  so  he  came  back  without 
further  delay." 

I  could  see  that  this  annoyed  Tuys.  He  ran  his  hand 
through  his  beard  in  an  aggravated  fashion  and  then 
spoke : 

"Umzulek  lies,"  he  said  decisively,  "but  he  also 
prophesies!  He  will  be  very  sick.  Perhaps  he  will  be 
so  sick  that  he  will  die,  if  I  go  to  see  him.  He  will  find 
that  I  am  a  bad  witch-doctor  and  will  know  that  it  is  not 
good  to  refuse  an  order!" 

Then  Tuys  delivered  his  ultimatum,  and  it  was  the 
arrangement  by  which  peace  was  preserved  in  Swaziland 
for  nearly  a  score  of  years.  It  was  a  striking  scene. 
Each  of  the  queens  sat  in  front  of  her  bodyguard,  while 
behind  Tuys  stood  the  keen-eyed  Boer  leaders.  Except 
for  their  plumes  and  colored  trappings,  the  armies  of  the 
two  queens  almost  blended  into  the  barren  brown  veldt. 
Over  all  was  the  crystal-clear  sky  of  South  Africa,  with 
the  bright  sun  throwing  clean-cut  shadows.  The  rocky 
hills  that  surrounded  the  httle  plateau  seemed  to  form 

143 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

the  irregular  walls  of  an  amphitheater,  with  our  council 
hill  in  the  center. 

Tuys  first  addressed  Queen  Tzaneen. 

"Nkosikaas,  y6ur  son,  the  Prince  Sebuza,"  he  said, 
"is  the  son  of  Buno,  the  grandson  of  Umbandine  and 
the  lineal  descendant  of  Ama-Swazi.  Sebuza  is  the 
rightful  heir  to  the  throne  and  shall  be  king  of  Swazi- 
land." 

Tzaneen  threw  her  head  back  and  glanced  triumph- 
antly at  the  old  queen,  who  was  watching  Tuys  with 
deep  concern. 

"And  you.  Queen  Labotsibeni,  mother  of  Buno  and 
grandmother  of  the  infant  Prince  Sebuza,"  Tuys  said, 
turning  to  her,  "shall  govern  as  queen  regent  until 
Sebuza  is  a  man  and  fit  to  become  king." 

Labotsibeni  straightened  up  and  a  smile  lighted  up 
her  hard,  old  face.  However,  I  noticed  that  she  did  not 
even  look  at  Tzaneen. 

"Those  are  the  orders  of  him  who  Buno  made  guard- 
ian of  Swaziland,"  Tuys  said,  talking  to  both,  "and  Oom 
Paul,  the  great  induna  of  the  Boers,  has  placed  thou- 
sands of  white  warriors  at  his  command  to  see  that  these 
orders  are  obeyed." 

Tuys  then  asked  each  queen  if  she  would  obey,  and 
both  promised  they  would.  He  told  them  that  he  would 
come  with  a  great  army  and  take  their  country  away 
from  them  if  he  heard  that  they  had  broken  their  prom- 
ises in  the  slightest  degree.  This  was  the  end  of  the  con- 
ference. 

144 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

In  this  way  the  Boer  Government  recognized  Labot- 
sibeni  as  the  regent  of  Swaziland  until  the  proper  time 
for  Sebuza  to  become  king  and  thus  showed  the  way  for 
a  peace  which  lasted  nearly  twenty  years.  Shortly  after- 
ward the  British  also  agreed  to  this  arrangement,  and 
it  is  said  that  they  did  so  after  talking  the  matter  over 
with  Oom  Paul  and  Tuys. 

However,  this  was  not  the  end  of  our  job.  Umzulek 
had  to  be  reckoned  with.  If  he  was  not  taught  his  lesson, 
it  was  quite  likely  that  he  would  continue  making  trouble 
and  sooner  or  later  bring  on  a  civil  war.  When  the  two 
queens  had  gone,  Tuys  called  into  conference  the  com- 
mando leaders  and  arranged  a  plan  for  Umzulek's 
benefit. 

Because  he  knew  that  some  of  Umzulek's  men  were 
undoubtedly  watching  us,  we  made  a  feint  of  starting 
for  home  late  that  afternoon.  We  camped  in  the  Valley 
of  Heaven,  as  though  intending  to  return  to  Rietvlei. 
The  kaffirs  at  the  kraal  near  which  we  camped  were 
told  that  we  expected  to  reach  the  Valley  of  Reeds  in 
about  three  days,  and  they  undoubtedly  passed  the  in- 
formation on  to  Umzulek's  scouts. 

Not  long  after  midnight  we  were  in  the  saddle  and  on 
our  way  to  Umzulek's  kraal.  Tuys  knows  Swaziland  as 
well  as  he  knows  the  Transvaal,  and  we  went  by  a  route 
that  did  not  take  us  near  either  Zombode  or  Lebombo. 

When  Umzulek's  warriors  came  out  of  their  kraals  at 
Stegla  shortly  after  dawn  they  rubbed  their  eyes  in 
amazement  to  see  us  drawn  up  in  battle  array  on  two 

145 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

sides  of  their  village.  Our  men  were  so  posted  that  they 
could  rake  the  kraals  with  rifle  fire  and  not  one  kaffir 
would  be  able  to  escape. 

There  was  great  activity  in  the  kraals  when  Umzulek's 
men  found  out  what  had  happened.  In  a  little  while 
several  made  attempts  to  get  away  in  the  direction  of  the 
hills,  sneaking  out  from  the  unguarded  sides  of  the 
kraals.  They  did  not  get  far.  Burghers  on  fleet  ponies 
turned  them  back,  and  there  were  no  further  attempts  to 
escape. 

Tuys  knows  how  to  handle  natives.  He  knows  that 
they  are  more  terrified  when  they  do  not  know  what 
is  going  to  happen  than  they  are  of  an  actual  calamity. 
For  that  reason  he  made  no  move  to  declare  himself. 
All  that  Umzulek's  warriors  knew  was  that  they  were 
surrounded  by  a  band  of  determined  white  horsemen 
with  rifles  ready  for  action.  I  saw  hundreds  watching 
us  with  apprehension,  and  there  was  almost  a  panic  in 
the  village. 

Finally  some  indunas  came  forward,  waving  their 
shields  and  making  aU  sorts  of  peaceful  overtures.  Tuys 
was  rough  with  them.  He  commanded  that  Umzulek  be 
brought  before  him  without  delay  and  said  that  his  men 
would  open  fire  within  a  few  minutes  if  he  did  not  come. 
The  indunas  fled  into  the  main  kraal  with  the  orders, 
and  Umzulek  came  out  with  almost  unseemly  haste. 

He  was  a  masterful-looking  savage.  JMuch  like  Buno 
in  the  face,  he  was  not  so  tall,  but  seemed  stouter.  His 
body  was  huge,  his  legs  massive,  and  his  fine  head  and 

146 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

bulging  forehead  showed  the  cunning  and  brains  for 
which  he  was  noted.  Except  for  a  short  assegai, 
Umzulek  was  unarmed  and  wore  nothing,  not  even  a 
loin-cloth  or  plumes. 

He  came  directly  to  Tuys  and  threw  up  his  hands  in 
salute.  There  was  nothing  cringing  about  him,  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  he  was  trapped. 

"Nkoos,  you  have  sent  for  me?"  he  asked,  his  voice 
sonorous  and  heavy.  I  noticed  that  he  looked  into 
Tuys's  eyes  without  flinching.  He  was  not  even  nerv- 
ous. 

"I  sent  for  you  yesterday,"  Tuys  answered  slowly  and 
severely,  "and  you  sent  back  the  foolish  word  that  you 
were  sick.  You  disobeyed  my  orders.  For  that  your 
life  is  forfeited!  Shall  I  give  the  word  that  means 
death,  or  will  you  listen  and  obey  the  order  I  now 
givef 

Umzulek  showed  no  fear.  He  met  Tuys's  eyes  with- 
out a  tremor. 

"Nkoos,  white  brother  of  my  brother,  Buno,"  he  re- 
plied after  a  moment,  "do  your  will!  I  am  not  afraid 
of  death.    If  I  live,  however,  I  shall  obey  your  orders." 

Tuys  then  became  very  angry  and  talked  to  Umzulek 
as  roughly  as  he  could.  In  spite  of  this,  the  savage  chief 
never  lowered  his  eyes,  although  he  promised  obedience. 
Tuys  ended  by  telling  him  what  he  must  do  to  avoid 
trouble  in  the  future.  Previously  he  had  informed  him 
of  the  arrangement  by  which  Swaziland  was  to  be  gov- 
erned. 

147 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"You  will  remain  here  at  your  kraal  from  now  on," 
Tuys  told  him,  "and  shall  never  go  to  Lebombo  or  Zom- 
bode  without  my  permission.  You  must  not  concern 
yourself  with  the  government  of  your  country  and  must 
keep  peace  here  in  your  own  district.  If  I  hear  that 
you  have  broken  your  promise  in  the  slightest  degree, 
I  shall  come  with  a  great  army  and  kill  you  and  all  your 
people!" 

Umzulek  admitted  that  he  understood  this  plain 
speaking,  and  the  interview  ended  with  his  curt  dis- 
missal. Even  then,  beaten  as  he  was,  he  returned  to  his 
kraal  with  his  head  up  and  dignity  unruffled.  I  had  a 
feeling  that  he  would  keep  his  word,  and  he  did  until 
years  later,  when  Tuys  sent  for  him  to  assist  in  saving 
the  throne  for  Sebuza,  who,  by  the  way,  was  his  nephew. 

The  return  trip  to  Rietvlei  was  made  by  easy  stages. 
Our  horses  were  pretty  tired  and  they  were  allowed  to 
rest  as  much  as  possible.  There  was  a  general  feeling 
of  relief  among  the  burghers,  although  some  of  the 
younger  ones  did  not  hesitate  to  regret  that  there  had 
been  no  fighting.  They  expressed  the  opinion  that  it 
would  have  taught  the  Swazis  a  lesson  they  would  long 
remember  if  an  impi  or  two  had  been  wiped  out.  Tuys 
made  one  significant  remark  to  me  as  we  came  in  sight 
of  Rietvlei. 

"With  Labotsibeni  on  the  throne  for  the  next  twenty 
years,"  he  said,  "I  'm  afraid  that  the  tribute  will  cease. 
Oom  Paul  will  save  two  thousand  pounds  a  month  and 
I  expect  that  I  won't  make  so  many  visits  to  Lebombo. 

148 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Labotsibeni  must  behave  herself,  and  it  looks  to  me  as 
though  I  won't  have  so  much  business  in  Swaziland  as  I 
have  had." 

He  was  thinking  of  the  wrestling  matches  with  Buno 
and  mentally  regretting  the  fact  that  his  big  pockets 
would  no  longer  bulge  with  gold.  However,  Tuys  had 
done  rather  well;  public  report  had  it  that  these  tussles 
gave  him  the  start  toward  his  fortune. 


149 


CHAPTER   X 

War  with  England — Siege  of  Belfast — Our  boyish  impi  attacks  the  British — 
Ghosts  defeat  us — Jafta's  friendship — English  troopers  do  the  "sport- 
ing thing" — Umzulek  still  planning  deviltry — Death  of  Klaas,  our 
jockey — Father  sends  me  away  to  get  an  education. 

AS  soon  as  we  reached  Rietvlei  my  father  and  Tuys 
closeted  themselves  in  his  office.  Mother  told 
me  that  there  was  trouble  between  the  British  and  Boers 
and  that  my  father  had  received  certain  orders  from 
Oom  Paul  Kruger.  None  of  our  little  army  had  left 
Rietvlei  when  Tuys  came  out  of  the  house  and  sum- 
moned its  leaders. 

"You  are  all  to  go  to  your  homes,"  he  said,  "and  there 
wait  for  orders.  There  is  serious  trouble  with  the  Eng- 
lish and  Oom  Paul  commands  that  all  stand  ready  for 
whatever  may  come.    God  grant  that  this  is  not  war.'* 

There  seemed  to  be  a  divided  sentiment  about  this. 
Some  of  the  leaders,  particularly  the  younger  ones,  did 
not  appear  to  dislike  the  thought  of  war,  but  the  old 
men  drew  long  faces  and  looked  very  grave.  However, 
they  all  mounted  and  before  long  the  last  had  left.  I 
did  not  realize  then  that  I  would  never  see  them  all 
again.  The  shadow  of  war  was  over  the  land  and  many 
of  our  troop  were  later  killed. 

A  short  time  after  our  return  from  Swaziland  word 
reached  my  father  from  President  Kruger  that  he  was 

150 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

to  visit  the  leading  Boers  of  our  district  and  get  their 
opinion  regarding  the  suggested  war  with  England. 
War  was  practically  inevitable  at  that  time  and  my 
father  found  the  sentiment  almost  overwhelmingly  in 
favor  of  it.  He  counselled  against  fighting  England, 
because  he  knew  of  the  unlimited  resources  of  the  empire 
and  how  impossible  it  would  be  for  us  to  win.  Knowing 
my  father's  astuteness,  the  old  Boers  listened  to  him  and 
were  almost  won  over  to  peace,  but  just  then  word  came 
that  war  had  been  declared. 

Immediately  the  whole  country  blazed  up.  Every 
farm  and  settlement  sent  its  men,  all  mounted  and 
armed  with  the  best  Mausers  and  hunting  rifles,  and  in  a 
trice  the  Transvaal  and  Orange  Free  State  were  on 
the  war-path. 

It  was  our  misfortune  that  the  British  broke  into 
our  part  of  the  Transvaal  first.  When  we  heard  they 
were  coming,  we  took  everything  of  value  and  moved  to 
Belfast,  which  had  been  fortified  and  where  we  were  pre- 
pared to  stand  a  siege.  I  shall  never  forget  the  excite- 
ment of  those  days.  My  mother  was  in  delicate  condi- 
tion and  the  whole  thing  was  a  terrible  hardship  for 
her.  For  me,  and  for  the  rest  of  us  boys,  it  was  a  great 
and  glorious  lark! 

The  air  was  filled  with  stories  of  battles,  and  before 
long  streams  of  wounded  men  were  sent  from  our  field 
forces  to  the  improvised  hospitals  in  Belfast.  We  boys 
used  to  watch  these  caravans  with  intense  interest  and 
would  run  errands  for  the  wounded  and  bring  them 

151 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

presents.  These  farmer-soldiers  were  our  heroes,  and 
we  were  proud  of  the  saying,  "For  each  Boer,  five  Eng- 
lishmen," this  being  the  ratio  our  fighters  claimed  was 
about  right. 

However,  it  was  not  long  before  we  began  to  find  the 
British  could  not  be  stopped  and  one  morning,  late  in 
1899,  Belfast  was  besieged  by  forces  under  General 
Paul  Carew.  We  suffered  many  hardships  and  I  soon 
realized  that  war  was  a  grim  and  earnest  business.  My 
mother  would  pray  continually  that  our  peril  in  Bel- 
fast be  ended  either  by  victory  of  our  troops  or  their 
speedy  surrender  to  the  British.  She  made  the  vow  that 
her  unborn  child  should  bear  the  name  of  the  victorious 
general,  and  when,  on  the  eve  of  the  triumphant  entry  of 
the  British  into  Belfast,  a  little  daughter  was  born, 
she  was  given  the  name  of  Paul  Carew,  with  the  prefix 
"Impi,"  which,  in  addition  to  meaning  a  regiment,  is 
also  the  Zulu  word  for  war. 

My  sister,  Impi,  certainly  lives  up  to  her  name.  De- 
termination and  fighting  spirit  are  her  chief  character- 
istics, and  she  is  equally  at  home  in  handling  wild  horses 
or  obstinate  kaffirs.  In  addition,  she  is  one  of  the  best 
rifle  shots  in  the  Transvaal  and  can  beat  any  one  of  her 
sex  when  it  comes  to  a  race  on  foot. 

General  Carew  constituted  Belfast  a  British  base,  and 
the  countryside  was  raided  and  ravaged  by  the  troops 
making  it  their  headquarters.  Hardly  a  farm  escaped, 
and  even  to-day  there  are  ruins  that  recall  those  dark 
days.    But  two  rooms  of  our  home  in  Belfast  were  habit- 

152 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

able  and  it  was  in  these  that  we  hved.  The  main  British 
camp  was  directly  in  front  of  our  house,  and  the  situa- 
tion galled  me.  I  hated  the  British  for  driving  us  out 
of  Rietvlei  and  for  ruining  our  home,  and  before  long  I 
declared  war  on  them  on  my  own  account.  What  hap- 
pened is  a  good  example  of  the  way  the  English  treated 
us. 

I  gathered  all  the  boys  of  the  town,  that  is,  the  dozen 
white  boys,  and  drilled  them  as  my  impi.  Sibijaan,  be- 
ing black,  was  not  allowed  to  take  part  in  our  war.  I 
considered  it  beneath  me  to  let  him  fight  with  me  against 
other  whites.  We  armed  ourselves  with  stones  and  sticks 
and  late  at  night  made  a  concerted  attack  on  the  British 
headquarters,  which  had  been  established  in  the  ruins  of 
the  local  hotel. 

We  smashed  all  the  windows,  and  the  officers  and  or- 
derlies came  tumbling  out  in  great  haste.  The  sentries 
did  not  fire  on  us,  but  there  was  a  general  rush  in  our 
direction  which  resulted  in  our  capture.  When  we  were 
brought  before  General  Carew,  he  asked  what  we 
thought  we  were  doing.  None  of  us  could  talk  Eng- 
lish and  the  questioning  was  done  through  an  inter- 
preter. I  informed  him  that  we  were  loyal  Boers  and 
had  declared  war  on  the  English. 

General  Carew  looked  at  me  very  severely  and  asked 
me  if  I  was  ready  to  be  shot  for  a  treacherous  attack 
after  the  town  had  surrendered.  This  was  a  new  thought 
for  me,  but  I  stood  to  my  guns  and  defied  him.  How- 
ever, I  did  not  hke  the  idea  of  being  buried  in  the  local 

153 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

cemetery  where  we  boys  had  seen  so  many  British  and 
Boer  soldiers  already  put  away. 

After  a  few  more  questions,  all  of  them  with  the 
most  serious  face  and  a  gravity  that  could  mean  nothing 
but  evil  for  us,  the  general  delivered  sentence.  It  was 
that  we  were  to  be  taken  to  the  improvised  mess-room 
and  fed  all  the  jam,  biscuits,  tea,  and  sugar  we  could 
eat!  I  remember  that  I  was  very  proud  to  be  given  a 
tin  of  jam  for  myself  alone.  My  sister,  Ellen,  had  been 
one  of  our  attacking  party  and  she  shared  equally  in 
the  spoils  of  our  captivity. 

But  this  treatment  did  not  pacify  us.  Next  night 
we  made  another  attack,  and  this  time  we  were  really 
punished.  We  were  captured  and  tied  to  the  veranda 
posts  of  some  houses  nearby.  Now  this  would  not  have 
been  bad,  if  we  had  not  been  superstitious. 

During  the  days  following  the  victorious  entry  of 
General  Carew  into  Belfast,  we  boys  had  been  intensely 
interested  in  a  number  of  wagons  loaded  with  the  bodies 
of  British  soldiers.  These  wagons  were  driven  down  the 
main  street  and  the  bodies  buried  in  huge  graves,  often- 
times eight  and  twelve  to  a  grave,  in  the  local  cemetery. 
The  tale  was  soon  started  that  the  ghosts  of  these  sol- 
diers walked  about  the  main  street  at  night. 

After  we  had  been  tied  to  the  veranda  posts  it  sud- 
denly occurred  to  me  that  We  would  most  likely  see 
these  ghosts,  and  I  mentioned  this  pleasant  thought  to 
my  fellow-prisoners.    Immediately  there  arose  a  wail- 

154 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

ing  and  weeping;  our  brave  little  army  cried  to  be  al- 
lowed to  turn  tail  and  depart  to  its  beds. 

Of  course  the  British  did  not  know  what  was  the  mat- 
ter. Ellen,  instead  of  being  tied  up  like  the  rest  of  us, 
had  been  taken  into  the  mess-room  and  given  more 
crackers  and  jam.  She  came  out  in  a  hurry  to  see  what 
was  the  matter  with  us.  I  told  her  between  gasps  of 
horror,  and  she  ran  in  to  the  mess  and  through  the  inter- 
preter told  the  colonel.  She  said  later  that  he  regarded 
it  as  a  huge  joke  for  a  little  while,  but  then,  when  she 
became  anxious  for  us,  gave  orders  that  we  were  to  be 
freed.  We  scurried  home  with  all  speed  as  soon  as  the 
hated  "Tommies"  turned  us  loose.  This  was  the  end 
of  our  little  war  against  the  British.  We  might  fight 
them,  but  when  it  came  to  ghosts  we  lost  our  nerve. 

In  spite  of  stories  that  have  been  spread  about  the 
Boer  War,  there  was  always  a  fine  sporting  spirit  be- 
tween our  people  and  the  British.  A  good  example  of 
this  was  what  happened  to  one  of  my  older  brothers. 
Jafta,  the  Mapor  king,  was  concerned  in  this. 

My  father  had  prospered  greatly  in  the  Valley  of 
Reeds,  and  when  the  war  broke  out  owned  immense 
herds  of  cattle,  sheep,  and  horses.  Soon  after  Belfast 
was  taken  he  decided  that  it  would  be  a  good  thing  to 
move  his  stock  into  the  northern  and  more  remote  parts 
of  the  Transvaal.  One  of  my  older  brothers,  two  uncles, 
and  a  neighbor  undertook  the  trek  with  the  stock. 

Such  a  trek  is  slow  and  tedious  work,  and  shortly 
after  they  started  out  a  galloping  outpost  of  about 

155 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

thirty  Britishers  came  upon  them.  The  Boers  fled. 
Their  horses  were  tired  and  trail-weary  and  they  had 
to  leave  the  stock  without  a  chance  to  obtain  a  remount 
from  the  horses  they  were  driving.  They  broke  for  the 
mountains,  and  zigzagged  about  until  they  came  to  the 
kraal  of  Jafta,  the  Mapor  king. 

They  hoped  to  get  fresh  horses  from  him,  but  Jafta 
had  already  been  terrified  by  the  British  and  feared  he 
would  be  shot  if  he  helped  or  sheltered  any  Boers.  He 
explained  his  position  to  my  brother  and  begged  that  the 
party  leave  immediately.  His  horses  had  already  been 
confiscated  and  he  could  give  them  no  remounts. 

But  the  Boers  decided  to  rest  awhile  and  off -saddled 
their  worn  horses,  who  soon  found  their  way  to  the  river 
bank  where  they  could  drink  and  graze  on  the  tender 
grass.  Jafta  was  very  nervous  and  urged  the  party  to 
saddle  and  get  away. 

His  anxiety  proved  justified,  for  while  they  were 
arguing  they  saw  the  squadron  of  British  horse  coming 
at  a  gallop  less  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away.  It  seems 
that  kaffirs  had  seen  the  Boers  and  betrayed  them. 

Jafta  was  in  a  quandary.  The  safe  thing  for  him  to 
do  was  to  order  his  impi  to  seize  the  Boers  and  then  turn 
them  over  to  the  English.  While  he  was  making  up  his 
mind  one  of  my  uncles  ordered  his  companions  to  pick 
up  their  saddles,  bridles,  and  rifles,  and  duck  into  Jafta's 
royal  hut.  As  they  were  doing  this  he  shouted  some  in- 
structions to  Jafta. 

A  moment  later  the  Britishers  reached  the  entrance  to 

156 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

the  kraal.  Jafta,  escorted  by  his  indunas,  went  to  meet 
them.  Their  officer  was  impressed  with  his  regal  air 
and  recognized  him  as  king  of  the  Mapors.  They  shook 
hands,  and  then,  through  his  interpreter,  the  officer 
asked  about  the  four  Boer  fugitives. 

"Yes,  Nkoos,  they  were  here,"  Jafta  admitted,  "but 
I  was  afraid  to  give  them  any  food  or  help.  They  were 
very  tired  and  their  horses  were  tired  also.  But  they 
went  on." 

"How  long  ago  was  that?"  the  Englishman  asked. 

"When  the  sun  was  over  there,"  said  Jafta,  pointing. 
He  indicated  a  space  of  about  an  hour. 

"Well,  we  must  pursue  them,"  said  the  officer. 

"But  you  look  tired,"  suggested  the  wily  Jafta,  "and 
your  horses  are  over-taxed.  Won't  you  rest  a  while  and 
have  some  tswala  and  refresh  yourselves?  Already  it 
is  the  hour  when  there  are  no  shadows  (midday)  and  it  is 
time  to  sleep." 

The  Britisher  let  himself  be  lured  from  the  stern 
path  of  warlike  duty  and  accepted.  The  horses  were 
turned  loose  to  graze  and  drink,  and  the  Englishmen 
partook  heartily  of  tswala  and  soon  dozed  off  to  sleep. 
The  Boers,  inside  the  hot  hut,  could  do  nothing,  so  they 
too  went  to  sleep.  It  was  a  funny  situation,  had  it  not 
been  so  serious.  These  enemies  were  peacefully  asleep 
within  a  few  feet  of  one  another. 

About  three  o'clock  there  was  a  general  stirring  and 
every  one  waked  up.  The  British  troopers  had  never 
seen  the  inside  of  a  royal  kraal  before,  and  they  asked 

157 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Jafta  if  they  might  be  shown  about.  The  king  imme- 
diately assented  and  appointed  some  of  his  indunas  to 
act  as  guides.  It  was  all  new  and  interesting  to  the 
Englishmen  and  they  were  soon  about  fifty  yards  away 
from  Jafta's  hut. 

This  was  the  chance  the  Boers  were  waiting  for. 
They  slipped  out  and  gathered  up  the  Britishers'  equip- 
ment, including  firearms,  and  stowed  it  in  the  hut.  A 
pistol  was  poked  into  Jafta's  belly  and  he  was  also  put 
in  his  "palace."  A  few  moments  later  the  Englishmen 
returned  and  found  themselves  facing  the  Boer  rifles. 
They  surrendered. 

Everything  was  well  with  our  party  and  they  could 
have  made  their  escape,  taking  as  many  of  the  British 
as  they  wanted  as  prisoners.  But  they  knew  that  the 
Mapor  king  would  have  to  pay  for  his  duplicity,  and 
thus  decided  that  he  must  be  protected. 

Whereupon  they  opened  a  discussion  with  the  com- 
mander of  the  British  party.  They  informed  him  that 
they  would  take  all  the  Britishers  as  prisoners  to  their 
own  headquarters  unless  he  agreed  to  the  proposition 
that  they  made  It  was  this:  First,  the  English  must 
swear  not  to  give  evidence  against  Jafta  at  their  head- 
quarters; second,  they  must  allow  the  Boers  to  have 
four  fresh  horses;  third,  they  must  give  the  Boers  a 
certain  start  before  again  taking  up  their  pursuit  If 
the  British  would  agree  to  these  conditions,  the  Boers 
would  call  everything  square  and  each  party  would  for- 
get that  it  had  ever  met  the  other. 

158 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

This  proposal  struck  the  British  as  a  good  sporting 
chance,  so  they  accepted  it.  Everything  was  agreed 
to  as  demanded.  Since  there  was  no  reason  for  further 
hostility  for  the  time  being,  the  Boers  returned  their 
arms  and  equipment  to  the  British  and  both  had  a 
merry  feast  that  night,  during  which  they  consumed  all 
of  Jafta's  tswala. 

Next  morning  the  Boers  left  at  dawn  and  did  not 
see  these  Britishers  for  some  time.  Strange  as  it  may 
appear,  these  same  parties  later  met  in  a  battle  not  far 
from  Jafta's  kraal  and  one  of  my  uncles  was  shot.  The 
same  British  officer  was  in  command  of  the  troops  who 
captured  him  and  saw  that  he  was  treated  with  every 
consideration,  making  him  feel  more  like  an  honored 
guest  than  a  wounded  prisoner-of-war.  This  officer,  by 
the  way,  remained  in  South  Africa  after  the  war,  and  he 
usually  visits  Rietvlei  every  Christmas  and  is  regarded 
as  one  of  the  best  friends  the  O'Neil  family  has. 

During  the  Boer  War,  Oom  Tuys  was  held  account- 
able for  the  peace  of  Swaziland  by  both  our  people  and 
the  British.  It  was  contrary  to  agreements  to  use  kaffirs 
in  the  war,  and  Tuys  made  several  trips  to  Zombode,  the 
seat  of  Labotsibeni,  to  make  sure  that  the  Swazis  were 
keeping  out  of  the  conflict.  Later  I  heard  him  tell  my 
father  that  he  kept  both  Labotsibeni  and  Tzaneen  quiet 
by  pointing  out  to  them  that  a  word  from  him  would 
bring  the  war  to  their  country. 

On  one  of  his  trips  Tuys  dropped  in  to  see  our  old 
friend  Umzulek  and  came  back  with  the  report  that  the 

159 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

kaffir  chief  was  minding  his  own  business  and  obeying 
orders.  However,  he  made  Tuys  a  proposition  that 
showed  him  to  be  still  willing  to  make  trouble,  if  it  were 
profitable. 

"The  old  rascal  suggested  that  he  make  a  demonstra- 
tion with  all  his  impis  against  our  borders,"  my  uncle  re- 
ported. "If  he  made  a  great  enough  showing,  he 
thought,  and  news  of  it  reached  Oom  Paul,  our  Presi- 
dent would  be  willing  to  pay  him  tribute  to  keep  the 
peace.  It  seems  he  has  been  thinking  about  Buno's 
monthly  gift  of  two  thousand  pounds  and  the  gin  that 
went  with  it.  He  has  a  sort  of  feeling  that  it  is  a  shame 
to  let  this  money  get  out  of  the  family !  The  crafty  beg- 
gar only  hinted  at  his  scheme  at  first,  but  I  finally 
smoked  him  out  and  he  admitted  what  was  in  his 
mind." 

"What  did  you  tell  him?"  my  father  asked,  glancing 
at  Tuys  keenly.  Father  remembered  the  days  of  Buno, 
when  ugly  rumors  used  to  float  out  concerning  Tuys's 
activities  in  Swaziland. 

"I  told  him  to  go  to  hell,"  Tuys  exclaimed,  "or  I 
would  come  with  many  rifles  and  send  him  there!" 

Inasmuch  as  Umzulek  could  have  no  conception  of 
what  my  uncle  meant  by  "hell",  since  the  Swazis  have 
no  such  place  in  their  daily  thought,  it  is  safe  to  assume 
that  Tuys  was  using  a  figure  of  speech.  Nevertheless, 
he  gave  Umzulek  to  understand  that  it  would  be  un- 
healthy for  him  to  start  a  row  along  the  border. 

We  were  still  living  in  Belfast  when  the  war  came  to 

160 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

an  end.  Our  home  at  Rietvlei  was  in  ruins  and  it  was 
almost  a  year  before  my  father  was  able  to  get  a  portion 
of  it  rebuilt.  However,  before  returning  there  we  lived 
for  a  time  in  Potchefstroom,  where  my  father  had  in- 
terested himself  in  some  gold  properties.  Prospecting 
was  always  fascinating  to  him  and  he  was  usually  suc- 
cessful in  these  ventures. 

His  English  secretary  remained  in  Belfast,  safe- 
guarding his  interests  there  and  making  frequent  visits 
to  the  homestead  in  the  Valley  of  Reeds.  Our  kaffir 
farmers  and  servants  had  been  widely  scattered  by  the 
war,  but  soon  began  to  drift  back.  Each  told  a  different 
tale  of  his  wanderings,  and  many  of  these  were  quite 
harrowing.  A  number  of  our  people  had  escaped  to 
Jafta's  kraal  and  not  a  few  had  gone  into  Swaziland 
until  the  war  ended. 

Klaas,  our  old  jockey  and  one  of  my  dearest  play- 
mates, had  disappeared  during  the  second  year  of  the 
war,  but  one  day  my  father  told  me  that  he  had  returned 
to  Rietvlei.  Father  was  about  to  make  one  of  his 
periodical  trips  to  Belfast  and  the  Valley  of  Reeds,  and 
he  promised  to  bring  Klaas  back  with  him  to  Potchef- 
stroom. 

He  drove  out  to  Rietvlei  from  Belfast  and  found 
Klaas  very  glad  to  see  him.  The  little  fellow  was  thin 
and  worn-looking,  but  scrupulously  clean.  Father  in- 
stalled him  again  as  his  driver  and  next  day  started  back 
for  Potchefstroom.  A  mile  or  so  from  the  old  house 
father  got  out  of  the  wagon  to  inspect  a  plantation. 

161 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

He  was  about  seventy-five  yards  from  the  wagon 
when  a  threatening  thunder-storm  broke  and  a  single 
bolt  of  lightning  killed  Klaas  and  both  horses!  This 
was  a  ^eat  blow  to  all  of  us,  because  we  had  come  to 
regard  the  little  black  boy  with  genuine  affection. 

Not  long  after  we  returned  to  Rietvlei — such  a  happy 
homecoming  as  it  was ! — my  father  decided  the  time  had 
come  for  me  to  get  an  education.  Many  of  the  old  Boers 
frowned  upon  the  thought  of  sending  their  sons  abroad 
to  be  educated,  feeling  that  they  would  never  care  to 
return  to  the  farms  their  ancestors  had  founded  in  the 
wilderness  with  such  bravery  and  determination.  My 
father,  however,  was  different.  He  believed  that  his 
sons  should  be  abreast  of  the  times,  and  he  sent  me  to 
boarding-school  and  later  to  universities  in  Scotland  and 
America,  where  I  received  my  training  as  a  physician. 


162 


CHAPTER  XI 

Back  to  Rietvlei  from  Harvard — I  locate  in  Ermelo — Tuys  brings  news 
that  Sebuza  is  to  be  crowned  king  of  Swaziland— I  decide  to  make  a 
picture  record  of  the  coronation — The  trek  to  Zombode  to  get  the  royal 
permission — Snyman  plays  ghost  and  almost  gets  killed — Visit  to  Mba- 
bane, capital  of  Swaziland. 

SOON  after  my  graduation  from  Harvard  Uni- 
versity I  returned  to  the  Transvaal.  I  had  been 
away  for  years  and  it  was  good  to  get  back  to  the  Valley 
of  Reeds.  Years  in  Scotland  and  the  United  States  had 
left  their  stamp  on  me,  and  my  family  and  old  friends 
chaffed  me  about  being  an  "outlander,"  telling  me  that 
now  I  was  an  American.  I  may  have  had  some  of  the 
externals,  such  as  the  clothing  I  had  had  made  in  Cam- 
bridge, but  my  heart  was  still  the  heart  of  a  Boer  and 
I  was  glad  to  get  back  to  my  own  people. 

Father  was  proud  to  have  a  son  who  was  a  physician 
and  arranged  a  reception  at  Rietvlei  to  which  all  his 
friends  and  acquaintances  came.  I  was  the  hero  of  the 
hour,  and  it  seemed  strange  when  Tuys  and  some  of  the 
old  men  who  had  known  me  as  a  boy  called  me  "Mzaan 
Bakoor."  I  had  not  heard  my  native  name  for  years, 
and  it  brought  back  my  boyhood  and  the  little  playmates 
of  the  toy-factory  days. 

Sibijaan  was  a  grown  man  and  a  fine  figure  of  a 
savage.  He  greeted  me  with  effusiveness  and  saluted 
me  native-fashion  as  soon  as  we  had  shaken  hands. 

1G3 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Father  told  me  that  he  had  been  very  useful  about 
the  house  and  was  well  trained.  Then  he  told  me  that 
Sibijaan  belonged  to  me  and  was  to  go  with  me  wher- 
ever I  went.  When  I  spoke  of  this  to  my  old  playmate, 
he  was  surprised  that  I  should  mention  it. 

"Nkoos,  what  the  ou  baas  says  is  so,"  he  said.  "I  have 
never  thought  it  would  be  otherwise.  When  we  were 
children  your  mother  gave  you  into  my  charge.  Now 
that  you  are  a  man  and  I  am  a  man,  again  I  take  up  the 
trust!" 

This  suited  me.  I  realized  I  would  have  to  have  some 
dependable  boys  and  I  knew  that  Sibijaan  was  faithful, 
honest,  and  more  intelligent  than  any  kaffir  I  had  ever 
met. 

Meeting  Tuys  again  brought  back  the  several  visits 
we  had  made  to  Swaziland,  and  I  asked  him  how  things 
had  gone  with  our  friends,  the  royal  family.  He  said 
that  the  old  arrangement  was  still  in  effect  and  that 
Umzulek  had  settled  down  for  good  and  was  behaving 
himself. 

"Queen  Labotsibeni  is  blind  now,  but  she  still  rules  as 
regent,"  he  said,  "and  Tzaneen  is  taking  good  care  that 
no  harm  comes  to  her  son,  Sebuza.  This  young  savage 
is  growing  into  a  man  and  already  has  gathered  about 
him  several  impis.  He  is  an  insolent  cub  and  will  be 
hard  to  manage  when  he  becomes  king.  As  the  cro^vn 
prince  he  is  running  wild,  and  it  seems  he  has  been  im- 
pertinent to  the  British  Resident  at  Mbabane." 

Tuys  then  told  me  that  he  expected  to  make  a  short 

164 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

trip  to  Lebombo  and  Zombode  and  asked  me  if  I  wanted 
to  go  along.  My  father,  however,  seemed  to  think  I  had 
"better  get  over  that  foolishness"  and  settle  down,  so  I 
told  Tuys  I  would  go  with  him  some  other  time. 

Next  came  the  question  where  I  was  to  practice  medi- 
cine. There  was  a  good  doctor  in  Belfast,  who  was  a 
friend  of  our  family,  and  it  was  suggested  that  I  join 
him.  This,  however,  did  not  please  me.  I  wanted  to 
be  "on  my  own"  and  make  my  own  career.  This  de- 
lighted my  father,  and  after  some  discussion  we  decided 
that  I  should  locate  in  Ermelo. 

This  was  a  little  town  of  about  fifteen  hundred  whites 
and  several  thousand  kafRrs,  in  the  heart  of  a  fine  farm- 
ing and  grazing  section  in  the  southeast  section  of  the 
Transvaal.  It  has  an  elevation  of  about  a  mile  and  is  a 
delightful  spot.  However,  I  must  admit  that  the  fact 
that  Ermelo  is  only  a  little  more  than  fifty  miles  from 
the  border  of  Swaziland  finally  decided  my  choice. 

After  a  few  weeks  with  my  family  I  started  for  Er- 
melo. Instead  of  making  an  attempt  to  get  there  by 
rail,  Sibijaan,  Tuys,  and  I  trekked  overland  and  had  a 
most  delightful  trip.  Seldom  a  night  but  we  met  with 
friends  of  my  father,  and  they  always  gave  a  warm  wel- 
come to  "the  O'Neil  from  overseas."  It  seems  that  these 
simple  people  had  wondered  over  my  absence,  feeling 
that  I  would  be  too  learned  to  ever  want  to  associate 
with  them  again.  They  were  intensely  interested  in  the 
United  States,  and  many  an  hour  I  spent  telling  them 
about  its  wonders,    I  happened  to  have  pictures  of  New 

165 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

York  among  my  dunnage,  and  I  dug  these  out  and 
showed  them.  Naturally,  the  towering  "skyscrapers" 
were  a  most  wonderful  thing  to  these  Boers,  many  of 
whom  had  never  seen  a  building  of  more  than  two 
stories.  I  always  remember  the  remark  made  by  one 
bearded  patriarch  when  he  looked  at  the  photograph 
of  the  Flatiron  Building. 

"This  is  a  modern  Tower  of  Babel,"  he  said,  pointing 
at  the  structure  with  a  stubby  forefinger.  "These  Ameri- 
cans must  be  good  and  religious  people  or  God  would 
throw  down  such  a  tower!" 

When  I  explained  to  him  that  it  was  built  of  steel 
covered  with  stone  and  told  him  that  there  were  many 
other  greater  buildings,  he  was  impressed,  but  not 
astonished. 

"If  it  is  God's  will,  these  Americans  will  conquer  the 
world,"  he  concluded. 

I  then  told  him  that  war  had  been  forced  on  America 
and  her  armies  were  even  then  in  France  fighting  the 
Germans.  He  knew  a  good  deal  about  the  war  and  was 
naturally  an  enemy  of  England,  which  meant  that  he 
was  friendly  to  the  Germans.  The  fact  that  America 
had  been  forced  into  the  conflict  carried  great  weight 
with  him,  however,  and  I  had  a  feeling  that  his  pro- 
Germanism  was  much  weakened  by  this  knowledge. 

I  quickly  found  a  home  in  Ermelo  and  settled  down  to 
practice  medicine.  My  work  there  was  hard  but  inter- 
esting. Its  chief  delight  was  the  fact  that  I  spent  most 
of  my  time  outdoors.    A  round  of  visits  soon  meant  that 

166 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

I  would  be  gone  several  days,  spending  most  of  the  time 
in  the  saddle.  Many  trips  could  be  made  by  motor, 
particularly  the  periodical  ones  to  the  mines,  but  most 
of  my  Boer  patients  lived  where  motors  could  not  travel. 
Except  for  the  mining  companies  which  had  appointed 
me  their  resident  physician,  my  patients  were  all  white 
people.  The  Boers  are  a  hardy  lot  and  hate  to  admit 
that  they  are  ill.  Hence,  when  I  received  a  call  to  a 
Boer  farm,  I  always  expected  the  worst  and  was  seldom 
disappointed. 

Bit  by  bit  my  practice  increased,  and  I  began  to  re- 
gard Ermelo  as  my  permanent  home.  There  were  a 
number  of  pleasant  people  there,  both  English  and 
Boers,  and  we  lived  a  very  contented  busy  life.  Sibi- 
jaan  turned  out  to  be  a  valuable  servant  and  did  every- 
thing for  me  that  he  could.  Of  course  I  made  him  head 
boy  about  my  place,  and  he  kept  the  other  servants  in 
good  order  and  saw  that  all  things  went  right. 

Oom  Tuys  stayed  with  me  frequently,  and  his  visits 
were  always  welcome.  He  wandered  about  the  Trans- 
vaal a  great  deal  and  was  a  source  of  information  of 
all  sorts.  It  was  in  December,  1918,  that  he  brought 
me  news  that  interested  me  deeply. 

*'I  have  come  from  Zombode,"  he  said,  "and  there  is 
hell  to  pay  in  Swaziland.  Old  Labotsibeni  tells  me  that 
Tzaneen  and  her  right-hand  man,  Lochien,  are  plotting 
to  have  Sebuza  made  king  and  are  making  preparations 
for  his  coronation.  Lomwazi,  who  is  a  son  of  the  old 
queen  and  acts  for  her,  tells  me  that  Labotsibeni  will 

167 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

not  give  up  the  throne.  She  will  have  to  die  if  she  does. 
As  you  know,  it  is  the  Swazi  custom  to  sacrifice  any 
ruler  who  loses  the  throne,  and  the  old  girl  does  n't  want 
to  be  killed. 

"It  looks  to  me  as  if  there  is  going  to  be  trouble. 
I  talked  to  Lomwazi  and  his  mother  and  told  them  it 
was  the  agreement  that  she  was  to  remain  regent  until 
Sebuza  came  of  age,  and  that  the  Boers  and  British 
both  would  protect  her  when  the  young  man  was  made 
king.  This  seemed  to  reassure  them,  but  I  do  n't  think 
Labotsibeni  and  her  crowd  want  to  lose  control.  Yes, 
Owen,  I  think  there  is  going  to  be  trouble  in  Swaziland." 

We  talked  the  matter  over,  and  I  agreed  with  him 
that  things  were  going  to  happen  soon  in  Swaziland. 
The  Swazis  had  been  at  peace  too  long  a  time  for  such 
a  warlike  nation  and  it  would  not  take  much  to  start 
a  war  of  some  sort.  The  fact  that  Prince  Sebuza  was 
to  be  made  king  stood  out  above  everything  else,  and 
I  made  up  my  mind  to  see  the  ceremonies. 

About  this  time  I  had  become  interested  in  the  cine- 
matograph. Moving-pictures  were  a  hobby  of  mine, 
and  it  suddenly  occurred  to  me  that  it  would  be  a  fine 
thing  from  an  historic  and  educational  standpoint  to 
take  some  reels  of  Sebuza's  coronation.  Tuys  told  me 
that  this  would  probably  be  the  last  affair  of  its  kind, 
and  it  seemed  to  me  that  a  cinematograph  record  of  it 
would  be  most  valuable  and  instructive. 

I  suggested  this  to  Oom  Tuys,  and  he  agreed  with 
me. 

168 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"But  you  'd  better  arrange  to  take  the  pictures,"  he 
cautioned  me.  "It  would  be  just  a  waste  of  time  to 
rush  into  Swaziland  with  a  camera  and  take  a  chance. 
We  don't  know  when  the  coronation  is  going  to  take 
place,  and  what  *s  more,  we  don't  know  that  the  Swazis 
would  stand  for  your  taking  pictures  of  it.  The  witch- 
doctors might  tell  them  that  you  were  putting  some  sort 
of  a  curse  on  them,  and  then  where  would  you  be?" 

This  put  another  light  on  the  matter,  and  Tuys  finally 
advised  me  to  see  Labotsibeni  and  get  her  permission 
to  film  the  ceremonies  when  Sebuza  was  made  king. 
I  was  afraid  that  I  might  not  be  able  to  get  what  I 
wanted  from  Labotsibeni,  so  I  asked  Tuys  to  help  me. 
This  he  agreed  to  do,  arranging  to  meet  me  in  Zom- 
bode.  This  meant  quite  a  trip  for  him,  because  the 
British  objected  to  his  going  into  Swaziland,  owing 
to  certain  activities  there  in  the  past,  and  he  had  to  go 
in  through  Portuguese  territory.  I  have  forgotten  what 
reasons  the  government  had  for  not  wanting  Tuys  to 
visit  Swaziland,  but  the  officials  evidently  had  not  for- 
gotten— Britishers  seldom  do,  particularly  when  the 
matter  affects  one  of  their  principalities. 

So  it  was  arranged  that  Tuys  should  slip  into  Swazi- 
land through  Komatipoort,  a  town  on  the  border  be- 
tween Portuguese  East  Africa  and  Labotsibeni's  coun- 
try. I  was  to  leave  as  soon  as  I  could,  and  we  would 
meet  at  Zombode  and  there  transact  our  business  with 
Lomwazi  and  the  old  queen. 

I  arranged  for  another  doctor  to  handle  my  patients 

169 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

while  I  was  away  and  then  set  about  making  prepara- 
tions for  the  trip.  News  of  my  venture  soon  got  about, 
and  I  was  deluged  with  requests  to  take  friends  along. 
If  I  had  given  in  to  them  all,  I  would  have  invaded 
Swaziland  with  an  impi.  As  it  was,  I  took  Laurie 
Snyman,  a  cousin  of  mine,  and  Joel  Biddy,  the  account- 
ant of  the  little  bank  in  Ermelo.  Snyman  had  some 
years  before  been  postmaster  at  Mbabane,  the  govern- 
ment seat  of  Swaziland,  while  Biddy  had  been  a  useful 
friend  on  many  occasions. 

We  had  some  interesting  adventures  on  the  trip,  but 
suffered  intensely  from  the  weather.  Heavy  storms 
dogged  us  all  the  way  and  made  life  miserable.  We 
traveled  light,  but  the  rains  prevented  us  making  good 
time.  Our  outfit  consisted  of  a  wagonette,  drawn  by 
mules,  in  which  we  had  intended  to  ride.  Sibijaan  was 
our  cook  and  general  handy  man,  while  the  mules  and 
wagonette  were  in  charge  of  Tuis,  a  half-breed  Basuto 
bushman. 

The  rains  made  the  roads  so  heavy  that  it  was  all  the 
mules  could  do  to  drag  the  wagonette.  Hence  we  had 
to  walk  practically  the  entire  way,  and  it  was  "foot- 
slogging"  of  the  hardest.  Tuis  was  a  very  obstinate 
kaffir  and  made  a  nuisance  of  himself  on  every  opportu- 
nity. If  we  had  not  needed  him  so  badly,  I  would  have 
either  killed  him  or  sent  him  back. 

One  of  the  features  of  the  trip  was  the  fact  that  both 
Sibijaan  and  Tuis  were  constantly  ill.  That  is,  they 
said  they  were.    The  only  medicine  which  seemed  to  help 

170 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

them  was  gin,  and  they  would  frequently  feign  illness 
to  get  some.  Now  and  then  I  would  refuse,  and  then 
Tuis  would  give  an  exhibition  of  sulking  that  was  won- 
derful. Of  course  it  is  strictly  against  the  law  to  give 
alcohol  to  kafRrs  in  the  Transvaal,  but  the  fact  that 
it  was  administered  as  "muti,"  or  medicine,  made  the 
act  less  criminal.  Those  boys  of  mine,  however,  needed 
"muti"  frequently,  but  the  rain  was  a  sort  of  justifica- 
tion, for  I  know  that  we  white  men  were  only  able  to 
keep  going  by  using  it. 

On  the  second  day  out  of  Ermelo  we  ran  into  the 
Scottish  section  of  our  country.  The  little  villages 
there  have  such  names  as  Lochiel  and  New  Scotland, 
and  the  people  are  quite  as  Scottish  as  these  names. 
In  fact,  we  were  able  to  get  some  oat  cakes  at  one  of 
the  farm-houses.  These  would  have  been  rusks,  had 
the  people  been  Boers. 

Although  our  trek  had  been  miserable  enough  so  far, 
we  did  not  have  any  real  trouble  until  we  reached  the 
Masuto  River.  It  was  swollen  by  the  heavy  rains  and 
the  ford  was  washed  out.  Instead  of  the  usual  clear 
rivulet,  it  had  become  a  raging  torrent  of  muddy  water. 
We  had  to  cross  it  or  go  back,  so  we  made  camp  on 
its  bank  and  held  a  council  of  war.  All  our  blankets 
and  supphes  were  soaked  through,  and  a  fire  could  not 
be  started.  We  were  just  about  as  uncomfortable  as 
we  could  be. 

Just  when  we  were  beginning  to  despair,  a  Scotch 
civil  engineer  showed  up.     He  was  building  a  bridge 

171 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

over  the  Masuto,  his  entire  working  force  consisting  of 
kafRrs.  He  proved  a  cheerful  person  and  made  light 
of  our  troubles.  This  was  well  enough  for  him,  since 
he  had  a  good  camp  a  short  distance  away,  while  we 
were  marooned  on  a  desert  of  dampness.  I  suggested 
to  him  that  we  would  appreciate  some  hot  tea  or  coffee, 
but  he  carefully  refrained  from  inviting  us  to  his  camp 
to  have  some.  Instead,  he  told  us  that  we  could  get 
what  we  wanted  from  Oom  Van  der  Merwe,  who  had 
a  farm  not  far  distant.  The  Scotch  are  a  careful  and 
canny  people! 

We  trudged  over  to  the  Boer  farm  and  received  a 
cordial  welcome.  They  received  us  with  open  arms  and 
insisted  that  we  remain  there  for  a  few  days,  or  at  least 
until  the  rain  stopped.  This  we  could  not  do,  since 
I  had  made  the  Zombode  appointment  with  Tuys  and 
did  not  want  him  to  have  to  wait  so  long  that  he  would 
give  us  up  and  leave  Swaziland. 

The  farmer's  womenfolk  gave  us  all  the  hot  coffee 
We  would  drink,  and  then  supplied  us  with  bread,  butter, 
milk,  and  the  hind  quarter  of  a  sheep.  We  returned 
to  our  thoroughly  soaked  camp  very  reluctantly  and 
passed  a  most  miserable  night. 

Next  morning  we  tackled  the  problem  of  getting 
across  the  Masuto,  which  had  risen  further  during  the 
night.  The  Scotch  engineer  came  to  our  assistance 
with  good  advice,  and  this  is  all  he  would  have  offered 
had  I  not  discovered  that  he  had  several  cables  stretched 
across  the  river.    After  much  argument  he  agreed  to 

172 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

let  us  use  one  of  the  cables  to  get  the  wagonette  and 
supplies  across.  This  was  done,  although  with  great 
difficulty. 

Knowing  we  would  have  to  swim  for  it,  we  white 
men  had  put  our  clothes  in  the  wagonette.  The  kaffir 
boys  did  not  wear  enough  to  matter.  The  Scotchman 
consoled  us  by  telling  us  that  we  were  a  ludicrous  sight, 
and  we  must  have  been!  There  we  stood,  naked,  cold, 
and  disgusted,  our  entire  possessions  on  the  far  bank 
and  facing  the  prospect  of  swimming  the  turbulent 
river,  driving  the  mules  across  at  the  same  time.  How- 
ever, it  had  to  be  done,  so  we  plunged  in.  The  current 
was  strong  and  we  crawled  ashore  a  full  half  mile  below 
the  wagonette. 

True  to  his  bastard  breed,  one  of  the  mules  turned 
back  in  midstream  and  proceeded  calmly  to  the  take- 
off bank  of  the  river.  We  had  to  swim  back  and  get 
him,  but  it  was  adding  insult  to  injury  when  he  tried 
to  run  away  and  we  had  to  chase  him  through  the  long 
grass  and  undergrowth  of  the  river's  edge.  Finally  we 
captured  the  brute  and  then  swam  the  river  for  the 
third  time  as  his  watchful  escort. 

We  were  dead  tired  when  we  reached  the  wagonette 
and  faced  the  stiff  climb  to  the  top  of  a  httle  mountain. 
The  road  was  in  the  worst  possible  condition,  so  we  de- 
cided to  camp  for  a  day  or  two  until  the  weather  became 
better.  As  things  were,  we  could  not  have  gone  on, 
anyway. 

As  soon  as  camp  was  pitched,  we  looked  about  a  bit 

173 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

and  discovered  the  ruins  of  an  old  Boer  farm-house  a 
little  way  up  the  river.  There  was  a  trickle  of  smoke 
coming  out  of  the  chimney  and  this  encouraged  us  to 
visit  the  place  as  soon  as  possible.  The  thought  of  fire 
was  heartening;  it  meant  hot  things  to  drink  and  pos- 
sibly warm  food.  When  I  came  close  to  it  I  saw  that 
there  were  two  rooms,  badly  roofed  over,  but  the  black- 
ened walls  showed  that  the  old  house  had  been  quite 
an  imposing  building. 

My  knock  was  answered  by  a  young  Boer  with  wild, 
hunted  eyes.  He  looked  us  over  as  we  stood  there  in 
the  pouring  rain,  and  a  moment  later  smiled  graciously 
and  invited  us  in.  When  the  door  closed  he  ceremon- 
iously extended  his  hand  and  we  shook  hands  all  around. 

"Strangers  seldom  come  during  the  storms,"  he  said, 
"and  I  was  surprised  to  hear  your  knock.  I  was  cook- 
ing some  coffee  in  the  back  room  and  now  I  shall  add 
enough  for  all  of  us." 

This  was  a  welcome  thought  to  us,  and  in  a  little 
while  our  drooping  spirits  were  revived  by  the  hot  drink. 
Then  we  cooked  the  food  we  had  brought  with  us  and 
had  a  merry  party.  It  seems  the  young  fellow  was 
quite  bucked  up  over  having  visitors  and  he  did  well 
by  the  gin  we  had  brought  with  us. 

But  still  it  rained  outside!  It  came  down  as  it  only 
can  in  the  Transvaal,  and  that  means  a  steady,  relent- 
less downpour  which  looked  as  though  it  would  last 
for  days.  We  decided  to  make  ourselves  as  comfortable 
^s  possible,  and  our  host  insisted  that  we  take  over  his 

174 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

house.    He  was  a  very  pleasant  fellow  and  before  long 
we  were  good  friends. 

It  seems  that  the  old  house  had  been  the  home  of 
his  parents  and  grandparents.  It  was  a  pioneer  home- 
stead and  had  been  burned  by  the  British  during  the 
Boer  War.  Both  his  parents  had  died  there  and  the 
place  had  never  been  rebuilt.  He  had  been  born  in 
the  room  in  which  we  rested  and  he  told  us  that  he  hoped 
some  day  to  rebuild  and  make  his  thousands  of  acres 
profitable. 

Bit  by  bit  we  got  the  story  of  the  place  from  him. 
It  had  been  destroyed  in  retaliation  for  some  act  of 
treachery,  for  which,  he  assured  us,  his  parents  were 
not  responsible.  I  asked  him  if  he  did  not  get  lonesome 
living  there  by  himself  and  suggested  that  he  ought  to 
get  a  wife  to  keep  him  company.  My  question  opened 
up  a  queer  side  of  his  character,  and  then  we  under- 
stood the  hunted  look  in  his  eyes. 

"By  day,"  he  said  slowly,  "I  don't  mind  being  here 
alone.  In  good  weather  people  cross  the  river  and 
come  to  me  to  buy  things.  I  have  a  store,  you  know, 
and  sometimes  as  many  as  five  or  six  come  each  week." 

This  was  news  to  us.  We  did  not  see  any  evidence 
of  a  store,  but  this  probably  explained  the  small  boxes 
and  bundles  in  the  back  room. 

"It  is  the  night  that  is  terrible,"  he  went  on,  lowering 
his  voice  as  though  afraid  of  being  overheard.  "Those 
who  died  here  come  back  and  look  into  the  windows 
and  cry  out  with  awful  voices.    They  cannot  rest,  and 

175 


I 
ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

must  come  back  to  this  place  where  they  were  killed. 
Some  of  them  are  our  people  and  others  the  British,  and 
sometimes  they  fight  the  battle  over  again!" 

For  a  moment  I  thought  he  was  guying  us,  but  a 
glance  at  his  eyes  told  me  that  he  was  in  deadly  earnest. 
Snyman  and  Biddy  caught  his  spirit  and  egged  him 
on  to  tell  more  ghost  stories.  Now  the  ignorant  Boer 
is  very  superstitious,  so  that  it  was  not  long  before 
we  had  all  kinds  of  ghosts  loose  about  the  place.  The 
young  Boer  took  the  stories  seriously,  and  those  two 
rascals  soon  had  him  quite  terrified.  A  sudden  burst 
of  thunder  made  him  jump  as  though  he  had  been  shot. 

Well,  we  told  ghost  stories  and  tales  of  other  super- 
natural visitations  for  some  time.  Then,  the  rain  let- 
ting up  a  bit,  we  went  back  to  our  camp,  to  find  that 
Sibijaan  had  finally  succeeded  in  getting  a  fairly  decent 
fire  going.  Before  leaving  we  had  bought  the  store  out. 
It  only  contained  quantities  of  "flag"  cigarettes,  coffee, 
and  yellow  sugar,  but  we  took  all  we  could  get.  The 
Boer  assured  us  that  he  had  sent  to  Ermelo  for  a  large 
stock  of  goods  which  would  be  at  our  disposal  as  soon 
as  the  roads  allowed  it  to  be  brought  in. 

Late  that  afternoon  it  looked  as  though  the  stormy 
weather  was  breaking  away,  and  this  cheered  us  up. 
We  planned  to  start  at  dawn  next  morning  and  make 
up  for  lost  time  by  forced  marches.  Shortly  after  dark 
Snyman  announced  that  he  was  going  to  visit  the  young 
Boer  again.  He  went  out,  leaving  Biddy  and  me  smok- 
ing our  pipes  in  the  tent. 

176 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Snyman  had  been  gone  for  about  half  an  hour  when 
the  stillness  of  the  night  was  shattered  by  a  succession 
of  rifle  shots.  They  came  from  the  direction  of  the 
ruined  house.  We  could  hear  some  one  shouting,  also, 
and  each  outburst  was  followed  by  more  shots. 

With  one  motion  I  snuffed  our  candle  and  dived  to 
the  wet  floor  of  the  tent.  Biddy  was  almost  as  quick, 
and  swore  softly  when  his  face  hit  my  heels.  We  neither 
of  us  could  imagine  what  was  taking  place,  but  our 
training  taught  us  that  the  ground  was  the  safest  place 
when  people  began  shooting  wildly. 

We  had  hardly  got  our  breath  when  Snyman  dashed 
into  the  tent,  falling  over  us  and  almost  pulling  it  down. 
He  had  been  running  hard  and  was  fairly  gasping  for 
breath.  Presently  he  recovered  sufficiently  to  loose  a 
volley  of  profanity  in  Dutch  and  English.  When  he 
calmed  down  a  httle — the  shooting  had  stopped  by  this 
time — we  asked  him  what  all  the  shooting  was  about  and 
why  he  had  returned  in  such  haste. 

"Why,  that  poor  ignorant  fool  thought  he  could 
shoot  a  ghost!"  he  said,  beginning  to  laugh.  "I  went  to 
see  if  there  were  any  ghosts  around  his  old  house,  and 
when  I  did  n't  find  any,  I  felt  that  he  ought  not  to  be 
disappointed,  so  I  played  ghost  for  him.  I  sneaked 
about  the  house  and  hid  in  the  old  ruins,  making  all 
sorts  of  creepy  noises.  I  must  have  scared  him  until 
he  went  crazy. 

*'I  was  just  beginning  to  enjoy  myself  when  his  light 
went  out.     Then  I  thought  I  had  scared  him  off  the 

177 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

map.  But  I  was  wrong,  very  wrong!  He  must  have 
opened  the  door  quietly,  for  when  I  started  out  of  the 
ruins  he  opened  up  with  his  Mauser.  I  dropped  flat, 
but  it  seemed  to  me  that  a  volley  of  bullets  crawled 
down  my  back.  A  moment  later  he  started  shooting 
in  another  direction,  and  then  I  got  up  and  ran.  I  '11 
bet  the  springbok  does  n't  live  that  could  have  caught 
me!" 

So  this  was  the  explanation  of  the  sudden  firing. 
We  examined  Snyman  and  found  that  two  bullets  had 
gone  through  his  coat,  showing  that  even  in  his  fear  the 
young  fellow  had  shot  like  a  true  Boer.  Snyman  did 
not  seem  much  upset  over  being  shot  at,  but  was  quite 
indignant  at  the  fact  that  the  "ghost  hunter"  had  used 
a  rifle. 

*'It  just  shows  the  ignorance  of  these  back-country 
Boers,"  he  said,  ruefully  examining  his  torn  coat.  "This 
damned  fool  spends  his  nights  quaking  because  he 
thinks  his  old  farm  is  full  of  ghosts,  and  then  he  takes 
down  the  ancestral  rifle  and  goes  out  and  tries  to  kill 
them.    As  though  he  could  shoot  a  ghost!" 

Before  dawn  the  next  morning  the  young  Boer  ar- 
rived at  our  camp.  While  he  was  taking  coffee  with  us 
he  related  his  adventure  of  the  night  before.  He  seemed 
to  have  no  suspicion  of  Snyman,  who  must  have  done 
a  wonderful  job.  According  to  his  story  a  whole  bat- 
talion of  British  ghosts  had  attacked  his  stronghold. 
He  described  their  wailing  and  threatening  cries,  and 

178 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

then  told  how  he  had  finally  driven  them  off  with  his 
father's  rifle. 

He  was  so  earnest  and  pathetic  that  we  all  felt  sorry 
for  him.  His  ignorance  was  extraordinary,  even  when 
his  isolation  was  considered.  We  were  sorry  to  leave 
him,  and  I  remember  looking  back  as  we  chmbed  the 
hill  road  to  see  him  looking  wistfully  after  us. 

The  roads  were  so  bad  that  we  had  to  walk,  and  it 
was  not  until  the  third  day  that  we  reached  Mbabane, 
the  official  capital  of  Swaziland.  This  is  about  fifteen 
miles  over  the  border,  and  the  village  is  on  the  top  of 
a  low  mountain.  Mbabane  is  the  new  capital  of  Swazi- 
land and  was  founded  in  1904.  The  old  capital,  Brem- 
ersdorp,  was  destroyed  by  our  people  during  the  Boer 
War. 

The  long  slopes  leading  up  to  the  village  are  nearly 
all  covered  with  plantations,  which  have  been  laid  out 
by  Robert  L.  Dickson,  head  of  the  Swaziland  Trading 
Company.  The  settlement  is  a  most  picturesque  and 
charming  place,  and  there  are  a  number  of  pleasant 
English  people  dwelling  there.  These  white  families 
live  very  well,  and  I  can  safely  say  that  Mbabane  is  the 
most  delightful  place  in  that  whole  section  of  the  Trans- 
vaal. 

Mr.  Dickson  is  a  remarkable  character  who  has  lived 
in  South  Africa  practically  all  his  life.  He  is  now  about 
sixty-five  years  old,  and  no  visit  to  Mbabane  is  complete 
without  at  least  one  cup  of  tea  with  him  and  his  wife. 
Mrs.  Dickson  is  a  lovable  old  lady  whose  chief  worries 

179 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

seem  to  consist  of  guarding  her  vegetable  plantation  and 
finding  her  glasses. 

The  morning  we  called  on  Mr.  Dickson,  she  came  in 
and  asked  if  he  had  seen  those  errant  glasses.  His  eyes 
twinkled  when  he  answered,  "No,  my  dear,  but  I  'm 
sure  you  '11  find  them  in  the  cabbage  patch !"  She  had 
been  there  during  the  morning  and  his  guess  was  cor- 
rect, for  one  of  the  black  boys  found  the  glasses  draped 
over  a  young  and  hopeful  cabbage. 

Of  course  Mr.  Dickson  invited  us  to  dinner,  and  this 
led  to  a  typical  and  amusing  incident.  Mrs.  Dickson 
ordered  her  cook  to  prepare  some  chickens  for  the  meal, 
and  the  cook  sent  some  of  the  Swazi  servants  to  get  the 
fowls. 

Now  a  friend  of  mine,  John  Pythian,  engineer  at 
the  tin  mines  nearby,  lived  next  door  to  the  Dicksons. 
He  was  a  chicken  fancier  and  had  some  very  fine  birds. 
As  luck  or  indolence  would  have  it,  Mrs.  Dickson's 
servants  caught  some  of  his  chickens  instead  of  her  own. 
Pythian's  servant  reported  this  to  him — he  was  still  in 
bed  at  the  time — and  he  instructed  his  boy  to  tell  Mrs. 
Dickson's  Swazis  to  return  the  chickens. 

Stronger  in  courage  than  judgment,  the  boy  attacked 
the  enemy  and  there  was  a  battle.  It  was  short,  how- 
ever, because  Mrs.  Dickson  heard  the  row  and  chased 
Pythian's  boy  away.  By  the  time  he  reported  to  his 
master,  the  chickens  were  slain.  Pjrthian  then  sent  his 
boy  to  get  the  native  police,  and  these  soon  arrived. 

Mrs.  Dickson  protested  and  argued  that  her  boys 

180 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

were  innocent,  but  about  this  time,  Mr.  Honey,  British 
Royal  Commissioner  for  Swaziland,  came  on  the  scene 
in  all  his  majesty.  He  held  an  impromptu  court  and 
heard  both  sides  of  the  c^e.  After  deliberation,  in 
which  we  all  tried  to  assist  him,  he  delivered  his  verdict. 

"From  the  evidence  I  judge  that  Mrs.  Dickson's  boys 
are  innocent  in  that  they  did  not  realize  they  were  kill- 
ing Mr.  Pyihian's  chickens,"  he  said.  "However,  the 
chickens  have  been  killed  on  the  order  of  Mrs.  Dickson, 
so  I  think  the  only  thing  to  do  is  to  arrest  Mrs.  Dick- 
son!" 

Whereupon  Mrs.  Dickson  became  indignant  and  de- 
manded that  the  commissioner  carry  out  his  sentence. 

"If  he  does,"  she  said  threateningly,  "I  can  guarantee 
that  the  High  Commissioner  for  Swaziland  is  going  to 
feel  very  low  in  his  mind  before  I  invite  him  to  dinner 
again!" 

Thus  the  chicken-stealing  ended  in  a  joke,  and 
Pythian  was  one  of  the  gayest  at  dinner  that  night. 
He  remarked,  however,  that  it  was  no  wonder  that  the 
roast  chicken  was  so  choice,  since  the  birds  had  been 
imported  all  the  way  from  some  place  in  India! 

During  the  meal  I  sat  next  to  the  Commissioner  and 
brought  up  the  question  of  the  crowning  of  the  new 
Swazi  king.  I  wanted  to  find  out  what  the  government 
thought  about  it  before  I  made  final  arrangements  at 
Zombode. 

"There  seems  to  be  a  difference  of  opinion  regarding 
this  pup,  Sebuza,"  he  said.    "It  looks  as  though  there 

181 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

might  be  a  row  either  before  or  soon  after  he  is  made 
king.  Of  course  he  is  the  heir  to  the  job,  so  there  can 
be  no  good  reason  for  keeping  him  out.  However, 
Labotsibeni  has  been  a  steady  old  girl  and  has  kept 
fairly  good  order  around  Zombode,  and  it's  a  shame  we 
can't  keep  her.  But  she  's  over  one  hundred  years  old, 
and  now  Lomwazi  seems  to  be  fairly  running  Swazi- 
land. Sebuza  will  have  to  be  king  some  day,  but  it 
will  be  good  policy  to  maintain  present  conditions  as 
long  as  possible.  We  have  peace  now,  and  I  'd  dislike 
to  see  anything  happen  that  might  start  a  war." 

I  could  see  that  the  Commissioner  was  none  too 
anxious  to  have  Sebuza  take  over  the  throne.  This 
suited  me,  for  I  knew  that  it  would  be  some  time  before 
I  was  equipped  with  the  right  outfit  to  take  the  pictures 
I  was  after.  If  Sebuza*s  coronation  could  be  put  off 
for  a  year,  it  would  suit  me  even  better. 

All  the  white  residents  of  Mbabane  treated  us  with 
the  greatest  kindness  and  hospitality.  They  could  not 
do  too  much  for  us.  There  are  a  number  of  interesting 
things  about  the  settlement.  It  is  essentially  a  little 
English  village  set  down  in  the  heart  of  the  most  primi- 
tive and  savage  principality  of  the  empire.  Like  all 
the  rest  of  the  English  who  exile  themselves  from  home, 
these  people  had  brought  a  little  bit  of  the  motherland 
with  them. 

The  jail,  or  "gaol,"  as  they  insist  on  writing  it,  is 
an  institution  in  Mbabane,  but  I  must  say  there  is  not 
much  punishment  about  it.     The  prisoners  wear  the 

182 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

convict  garb,  but  you  meet  them  all  over  the  village. 
They  are  usually  working  in  the  gardens,  and  I  have 
often  run  across  them  three  and  four  miles  from  their 
penitential  abode.  No  prisoner  has  ever  been  known  to 
escape;  perhaps  the  regular  food  has  something  to  do 
with  this. 

There  are  a  nimiber  of  interesting  characters  who  live 
in  Mbabane  year  in  and  year  out.  One  of  these  is 
Allister  Miller,  a  man  of  remarkable  personality,  energy, 
and  business  ability.  He  has  several  immense  ranches 
and  owns  more  than  fifty  thousand  head  of  fine  cattle. 
His  bulls  have  been  imported  from  all  over  the  world 
and  his  cattle  have  made  him  a  very  rich  man.  Swazi- 
land is  an  ideal  stock-raising  country  and  it  is  estimated 
that  the  Swazis  themselves  own  more  than  three  hun- 
dred thousand  head  of  cattle. 

Probably  the  most  interesting  character  in  Mbabane 
is  known  to  every  one  as  "Matt."  He  is  an  accountant 
by  profession.  His  nose  has  made  him  famous,  and  I 
am  sure  there  is  not  another  like  it  in  the  whole  world. 
It  is  immense  in  size  and  has  all  the  vivid  tints  of  the 
"rum-nose"  that  distinguishes  the  confirmed  tippler.  All 
strangers  are  advised  to  see  Matt's  nose  or  count  their 
visit  to  Mbabane  a  rank  failure. 

There  are  a  number  of  stories  about  him,  one  of  the 
best  being  about  his  experience  as  an  inmate  of  the 
gaol.  It  seems  that  he  was  accountant  for  a  trading 
company  and  had  made  a  mess  of  its  books.  Money 
was  missing  and  he  could  not  account  for  it.    Although 

183 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

it  was  felt  that  he  had  not  taken  it,  yet  he  was  respon- 
sible and  was  sentenced  to  gaol  for  six  months.  Now 
the  warden  of  the  gaol  trusted  Matt  and  put  him  to 
work  on  the  books.  In  addition,  he  used  to  loan  Matt 
to  do  little  jobs  of  carpentering  and  painting  at  houses 
in  the  village.  This  led  to  trouble.  The  little  tin  shanty, 
by  courtesy  "The  Hotel,"  was  much  hke  some  of  the 
saloons  in  the  "cow  towns'*  of  the  old  West  in  the 
United  States.  Ranchers,  traders,  and  adventurers 
would  congregate  there  and  tell  stories  while  they  drank 
gin,  whiskey,  and  combinations  of  the  same.  Matt  was 
m  the  habit  of  passing  the  "hotel"  each  evening  on  his 
return  to  the  gaol,  and  soon  the  roisterers  began  in- 
viting him  in  to  have  a  drink  or  two. 

One  night  there  was  a  particularly  joyous  party,  and 
Matt  drank  so  much  that  he  forgot  to  return  to  the 
gaol  on  time.  It  was  midnight  before  he  got  there, 
and  the  jailer  had  already  gone  to  bed.  Matt  went  to 
his  house  and  woke  him,  and  this  annoyed  the  official 
very  much.  So  much  so,  in  fact,  that  he  refused  to 
get  up  and  let  Matt  into  the  gaol.  Matt  was  reduced 
to  the  ignominy  of  returning  to  the  hotel  and  bunking 
there.  Next  morning  he  made  a  charge  against  the 
jailer  for  not  allowing  him  to  serve  out  his  sentence! 
Commissioner  Honey  discharged  him  and  reprimanded 
the  jailer  for  neglect  of  duty. 

Some  years  before  Snyman  had  been  postmaster  at 
Mbabane  and  had  made  many  friends,  with  the  result 
that  he  had  a  most  enjoyable  visit.    The  morning  we 

184 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

left  to  continue  our  trek  to  Zombode  he  was  approached 
by  Manaan,  an  old  Swazi  chief,  who  wanted  to  shake 
hands  with  him.  Manaan  was  a  typical  kaffir,  and  Sny- 
man  told  me  a  story  about  him  which  well  illustrates 
the  characteristics  of  the  breed. 

"When  I  was  at  the  post-office  here,"  Snyman  said, 
"Manaan  and  some  of  his  sons  went  to  the  Transvaal 
to  work  in  the  gold  mines.  According  to  the  law,  their 
money  was  deposited  for  them  in  the  savings-bank  at 
Johannesburg,  and  the  whole  amount  was  put  in  the 
name  of  the  old  chief.  I  was  still  postmaster  when 
Manaan  and  his  sons  returned  to  Swaziland. 

"One  morning  I  was  very  busy  when  I  saw  Manaan 
standing  at  the  door.  Of  course  he  would  not  enter 
until  I  spoke  to  him.  I  grunted  at  the  old  boy  and  he 
came  in,  with  the  usual  'Nkoos!'  and  his  hands  flung 
up.  He  stood  at  the  counter  for  a  while,  waiting  for 
me  to  speak  to  him. 

"Finally  I  asked,  'Ou  funaan?'  which  means  'What 
do  you  want?' 

"  *Ou  funa  mali!'  he  answered,  meaning  'I  want  some 
money.' 

"Then  the  old  boy  walked  over  to  the  corner  of  the 
room  and  sat  down.  From  the  top  of  his  majuba,  or 
loin-cloth,  he  produced  a  little  bundle  wrapped  in  an 
abundance  of  dirty  rags  and  tied  with  some  leather 
thongs.  Then  he  knelt  down,  as  is  the  custom  of  the 
Swazis,  and  proceeded  to  spread  out  the  contents  of  the 
bundle. 

185 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"When  he  unwrapped  the  outer  cover  there  was 
another  and  yet  another,  the  last  covering  being  the 
hide  of  some  small  animal.  After  this  was  undone  there 
was  a  paper  wrapping,  and  inside  this  was  his  savings 
account  deposit  book!  This  he  presented  to  me  with 
pride. 

"  *Ou  shiai  intzinga;  ou  funa  mali,'  he  said,  which 
meant  'Telegraph  to  the  place  where  this  money  is  de- 
posited; I  want  to  draw  it.' 

"  'LungUi,'  I  replied ;  'wati  nalie  e'lali  bapa  ou  buia 
mfigo  uti  zouk  mah,'  which  meant,  'When  the  sun  is 
over  there  come  back  and  I  will  give  you  the  money.' 

"I  thought  I  would  get  a  reply  by  sunset,  and  Manaan 
arrived  promptly  after  I  had  heard  from  Johannesburg. 
He  entered  on  my  recognition,  stacked  his  knob-kerrie, 
shield,  and  assegai  in  the  corner,  and  came  up  to  the 
counter. 

"I  counted  out  the  money  to  him.  There  were 
twenty- four  pounds,  and  ten  shillings  for  interest.  This 
I  had  to  explain  to  him,  and  when  he  understood  that 
it  was  a  gift  he  spent  the  next  ten  minutes  in  praising 
the  white  men.  He  was  so  accustomed  to  being  taxed 
and  paying  for  everything  that  to  get  these  extra  ten 
shillings  was  a  shock. 

"Manaan  then  went  over  to  his  corner,  knelt  down, 
and  counted  the  money  over  six  or  seven  times.  He 
would  take  it  up,  examine  it,  and  put  it  dov/n  again  and 
again.  He  seemed  fascinated  by  the  sovereigns.  Finally 

186 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

he  gathered  it  up  and  walked  over  to  the  counter.  Pihng 
it  up  in  front  of  me,  he  said : 

"  'E'musla  implea  mene  bonela  e'begga  panzi!'  which 
means  'Very  nice  indeed!  I  have  had  a  look  at  it;  it  is 
wonderful!    Now  please  put  it  away  again!' 

"I  felt  like  a  fool.  I  had  cancelled  his  account,  and 
now  the  old  nuisance  wanted  to  re-open  it  and  put  his 
money  in  the  bank  again.  But  of  course  I  did  it.  All 
Manaan  wanted  was  to  see  and  feel  his  money,  so  that 
he  would  be  sure  it  was  still  there!" 


187 


CHAPTER  XII 

I  meet  Labotsibeni  again — Flattering  a  savage  queen — Explaining  the 
"little  bl£ick  magic  box" — Curing  rheiunatism  with  tooth-paste,  vase- 
line, and  hair  oil — ^Women  as  currency — Gin,  gold,  and  covins  pay  for 
the  picture  rights — The  "flu"  strikes — Jennie,  the  "blaau  app",  and 
the  peacocks'  tails. 

FROM  Mbabane  it  is  only  a  short  distance  to  the 
top  of  the  mountain  from  which  the  descent  is 
made  into  Ezulweni,  the  beautiful  Valley  of  Heaven. 
As  we  reached  the  top  I  pointed  out  Sheba's  Breasts 
and  the  Place  of  Execution  to  my  companions.  These 
peaks  could  be  seen  far  off  to  the  right,  where  the  sun 
picked  them  out  in  the  early  morning  mist. 

Coming  down  the  mountain  was  hard  work,  the  grade 
being  one  in  four  at  many  places.  We  walked,  because 
it  would  only  have  made  it  harder  for  the  mules  if  we 
had  kept  our  seats  in  the  wagonette.  At  the  bottom  of 
the  steep  trail  stands  the  place  of  Harry  Niles,  an  old- 
time  trader  who  has  settled  down  there.  He  has  a  pic- 
turesque little  home  and  has  surrounded  the  house  with 
banana  trees,  papayas,  and  semi-tropical  fruits.  Niles 
is  a  charming  old  man  who  retired  from  active  business 
to  live  out  his  remaining  years  in  this  garden  spot.  He 
has  no  interest  in  outside  affairs  and  lives  an  ideal 
existence,  if  one  likes  that  sort  of  thing.  His  likes  and 
dislikes  are  quickly  expressed,  and  this  is  probably  one 

188 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

of  the  reasons  that  make  him  contented  with  his  life 
of  isolation.  If  he  likes  you,  however,  he  can  be  more 
hospitable  than  any  one  I  know.  He  will  feed  you  with 
the  most  delicious  salads,  fresh  meat,  and  other  delica- 
cies, and  there  is  always  something  rare  to  drink.  His 
salads  are  famous,  so  that  his  few  friends  in  Mbabane 
often  make  the  hard  trek  to  his  little  home  to  share  one 
of  them. 

Coming  into  the  Valley  of  Heaven  from  Mbabane, 
instead  of  from  Rietvlei,  made  it  a  much  shorter  dis- 
tance to  Zombode.  We  wanted  to  get  there  as  soon  as 
possible,  since  we  had  already  been  delayed  by  the 
wretched  weather,  so  we  only  had  a  drink  with  Niles  and 
then  pushed  on.  He  told  me  that  he  had  heard  that  the 
Swazis  were  getting  ready  to  acknowledge  Sebuza  as 
king,  but  he  had  no  definite  information  about  it. 

"What's  more,"  he  added,  "I  don't  give  a  damn! 
Just  so  long  as  these  royal  niggers  keep  out  of  my  way 
I  'U  keep  out  of  theirs.  They  know  better  than  to  bother 
me,  and  it  makes  no  difference  to  me  who  is  king!" 

Shortly  before  we  came  in  sight  of  Zombode,  Oom 
Tuys  came  riding  down  the  trail.  A  Swazi  runner  had 
brought  word  that  we  were  coming,  and  my  uncle  had 
come  out  to  meet  me.  I  was  very  glad  to  see  him  and 
he  was  as  cheerful  as  ever.  He  told  me  that  he  had  had 
no  difficulty  in  getting  into  Swaziland,  as  he  had  come 
in  through  Komatipoort,  but  he  understood  that  word 
had  gone  to  Mbabane  that  he  was  at  Zombode  and  he 
wanted  to  cut  his  stay  as  short  as  possible. 

189 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"It  is  a  shame  that  the  great  British  Empire  should 
hound  one  poor  lone  Boer  trader,"  he  said,  his  eyes 
twinkling,  "and  I  feel  very  much  afraid.  I  hate  to  dis- 
turb the  peace  of  mind  of  the  High  Commissioner,  so 
I  don't  want  to  stay  here  any  longer  than  necessary." 

Then  he  began  to  plan  with  me  how  to  get  our  busi- 
ness over  as  quickly  as  possible.  I  had  not  been  to 
Swaziland  since  my  youth,  and  things  were  different 
now.  Instead  of  our  being  met  by  a  welcoming  party 
of  indunas,  only  a  few  curious  savages  and  a  horde  of 
children  came  out  to  watch  us  arrive.  The  former  proud 
formality  of  the  royal  kraal  seemed  lacking,  and  when 
I  asked  Tuys  about  it  he  explained  that  since  Queen 
Labotsibeni  had  become  blind  "the  old  customs  had 
gone  to  seed." 

There  was  still  one  formality  about  seeing  her,  how- 
ever. This  consisted  of  announcing  your  presence  by 
sending  her  a  bottle  of  gin  and  then  waiting  until  she 
sent  for  you.  Tuys  explained  to  me  that  the  old  queen 
was  terribly  vain  and  desired,  above  all  things,  to  be 
flattered.  She  liked  to  pretend  that  she  could  still  see, 
and  Tuys  warned  me  under  no  circumstances  to  admit 
that  I  thought  she  could  not. 

"You  want  to  look  out  for  Lomwazi,  my  boy,"  he 
added.  "He  has  more  brains  than  all  the  rest  put  to- 
gether and  is  a  very  wily  devil.  He  never  leaves  the 
side  of  the  old  queen,  and  she  can't  say  a  word  that  he 
doesn't  hear.     Look  out  for  him!" 

He  also  advised  me  to  keep  my  eye  on  Debeseembie, 

190 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

a  brother  of  Lomwazi  and  the  favorite  son  of  the  old 
queen.  Debeseembie  was  another  faithful  watchdog  of 
the  royal  hut  and  was  always  somewhere  around. 

This  was  the  first  time  I  had  seen  Labotsibeni  since 
I  was  a  little  boy,  hence  I  was  keenly  interested  in  her 
apart  from  the  fact  that  I  hoped  to  obtain  her  permis- 
sion to  take  pictures  of  Sebuza's  coronation.  It  is 
well  to  observe  here  that  I  use  the  word  "coronation" 
for  lack  of  a  better  term.  The  Swazi  king  wears  no 
crown,  and  I  suppose  the  right  but  awkward  phrase 
would  be  to  speak  of  Sebuza's  "induction  as  king." 

Lomwazi  came  out  to  meet  us  as  we  entered  the  royal 
kraal  and  readily  agreed  to  convey  the  gin-present  to 
his  royal  mistress.  When  I  slipped  him  a  bottle  for 
himself,  his  haughty  expression  immediately  became  one 
of  joy.    A  little  gin  goes  a  long  way  with  the  Swazis. 

In  a  very  short  time  he  returned  and  said  that  the 
queen  would  see  us.  In  addition  to  the  present  sent 
ahead  when  an  interview  is  desired  with  the  queen,  it  is 
also  proper  etiquette  to  leave  a  present  when  the  inter- 
view is  over.  Knowing  this,  I  took  along  a  present — 
that  is,  another  bottle  of  gin. 

Now  the  royal  kraal  at  Zombode  was  built  with  a  little 
kraal  inside  the  main  one,  and  in  the  middle  of  that  was 
Labotsibeni's  reception  hall  or  audience  chamber.  This 
was  the  most  unusual  building  in  Swaziland.  It  had 
brick  walls  about  four  feet  high  and  was  about  ten  by 
fifteen  feet  in  size.  The  arched  grass  roof  was  about 
head  high  in  the  middle,  but  one  had  to  stoop  low  to 

191 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

enter,  because  the  three  openings  were  only  the  height 
of  the  brick  wall.  No  one  has  ever  explained  how  these 
bricks  came  to  Zombode.  There  are  no  bricks  in  Swazi- 
land and  it  struck  me  as  extraordinary  that  I  should 
see  them  there. 

Lomwazi  led  us  to  the  reception  hut  and  we  waited 
for  him  to  announce  us.  I  could  see  Labotsibeni  lying  on 
a  mat  in  the  center  of  the  floor  with  a  number  of  her 
women  and  warriors  about  her.  She  seemed  very  fat 
and  huge,  and  very  very  old. 

"Nkosikaas!  All  powerful  Queen  of  Swaziland," 
Lomwazi  chanted.  "Oom  Tuys  and  Mzaan  Bakoor, 
great  white  indunas,  have  come  to  see  you.  They  bring 
presents  and  would  be  overjoyed  forever  if  you  would 
look  upon  them  and  accept  their  great  tribute!" 

Some  of  this  was  true,  but  all  of  it  was  the  proper 
sort  of  thing  at  Zombode.  Labotsibeni  listened  intently, 
and  when  her  vizier  finished  she  spoke  in  her  old  cracked 
voice: 

"Tell  my  white  sons  that  I  am  proud  to  welcome  them 
to  Swaziland  and  will  grant  them  an  audience." 

Thereupon  we  entered  the  hut.  There  were  at  least 
a  dozen  maids-of-honor  attending  the  old  queen,  and 
several  of  these  spread  mats  for  us  to  sit  on.  Some 
of  these  women  were  working  on  freshly  tanned  hides 
from  which  they  were  fashioning  skirts,  and  the  odor 
of  the  skins  tainted  the  air  of  the  hut.  I  am  accustomed 
to  this  smell  and  do  not  find  it  unpleasant,  but  both 
Snyman  and  Biddy  soon  had  all  of  it  they  could  stand. 

192 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

The  old  queen  lay  on  her  stomach  with  her  head 
propped  up  by  her  hands.  Within  easy  reach  was  a 
pile  of  leaves,  and  at  intervals  she  would  take  one  of 
these,  wipe  her  lips  and  fingers  with  it,  and  thrust  it 
through  the  open  doorway.  Her  hands  were  small  and 
beautifully  shaped  and  her  nails  were  spotlessly  clean 
and  perfectly  manicured.  Later  I  learned  that  her 
maids  spent  hours  taking  care  of  her  hands,  their  only 
tools  for  manicuring  the  royal  nails  being  bits  of  broken 
bottle-glass. 

Remembering  Tuys's  warning,  I  complimented  her 
on  her  looks,  beautiful  hands,  and  the  cleanliness  of  her 
hut  and  kraal.  I  told  her  that  her  royal  abode  was  an 
example  for  all  the  other  native  kings  of  the  Transvaal 
and  generally  explained  to  her  what  a  superior  person 
she  was.  She  listened  intently  to  my  flattery  and  appre- 
ciatea  it  greatly. 

Near  her  was  the  bottle  of  gin  we  had  sent  ahead.  It 
was  more  than  half  finished  and  she  took  a  drink  while 
I  was  delivering  my  flattering  oration.  She  reached  for 
the  bottle  and  Debeseembie  assisted  her  to  get  the  drink 
by  pouring  out  more  than  half  an  earthen  mug  full  of 
the  fiery  liquid.  With  one  swallow  she  gulped  it  down, 
and  then  almost  choked.  This  gave  me  my  cue,  and  I 
told  her  how  moderate  she  was  and  how  refined  in  her 
way  of  drinking  gin. 

"Why,  Nkosikaas,  if  I  were  to  give  Jafta,  king  of 
the  Mapors,  a  bottle  of  gin,"  I  said,  "he  would  n't  stop 
drinking  until  he  had  finished  it,  and  then  he  would  soon 

ld3 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

become  drunk.    Whereas,  you,  with  your  royal  dainti- 
ness and  delicacy,  drink  your  gin  like  a  queen!" 

This  thought  pleased  her  much  and  she  thereupon 
took  another  drink,  which  practically  emptied  the  bottle. 
Of  course  I  do  not  know  that  she  had  consumed  the  first 
half  of  that  bottle,  but  she  certainly  drank  enough  in 
our  presence  to  intoxicate  any  normal  person.  It  was 
strange,  but  it  did  not  seem  to  have  much  effect  on  her. 
When  she  spoke  and  drank,  I  noticed  that  her  teeth 
were  perfect.  This,  at  the  age  of  more  than  one  hun- 
dred years,  is  a  great  tribute  to  the  Swazi  custom  of 
cleaning  the  teeth  with  charcoal  or  sand  after  each  meal. 

There  was  nothing  private  about  our  interview. 
While  we  talked  indunas  came  and  went  and  the  women 
were  always  in  the  hut.  In  addition,  both  Lomwazi 
and  Debeseembie  were  on  hand  all  the  time.  After  we 
had  exhausted  all  our  compliments  and  small  talk,  Tuys 
broached  the  subject  of  permission  to  take  pictures  of 
Sebuza's  coronation. 

Here  we  ran  against  what  seemed  to  be  an  insuperable 
obstacle.  It  was  impossible  to  make  either  the  queen  or 
Lomwazi  understand  what  I  wanted.  They  had  no  con- 
ception whatever  of  what  a  photograph  meant  and 
motion-pictures  were  entirely  beyond  their  comprehen- 
sion. Both  Tuys  and  I  tried  in  every  way  to  make  them 
understand,  but  it  was  hopeless.  Finally  I  decided  that 
the  only  thing  to  do  would  be  to  take  a  picture  of  Lom- 
wazi or  the  old  queen  and  show  Lomwazi  what  I  was 
talking  about. 

194 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

I  persuaded  him  to  get  Labotsibeni  to  allow  herself 
to  be  carried  outside  the  hut  into  the  sunlight,  and  there 
I  took  a  picture  of  her.  Then  I  photographed  Lom- 
wazi,  Debeseembie,  and  a  group  of  others.  I  explained 
to  them  that  I  would  show  them  the  pictures  the  next 
day,  as  I  hoped  to  have  them  developed  and  printed 
by  that  time.  After  the  picture-taking  we  went  back 
inside  the  hut,  and  then  the  old  queen  became  more 
friendly  and  told  me  her  troubles.  It  seems  she  suf- 
fered with  rheumatism  in  the  shoulders  and  back.  This 
was  due  to  the  fact  that  her  upper  body  was  usually 
bare  and  that  she  laid  in  the  draught  between  the  open- 
ings of  the  hut.  When  cold,  she  would  cover  herself 
with  a  magnificent  fur  rug,  but  this  did  not  help  her 
rheumatism  much. 

On  hearing  of  her  aches  and  pains,  Tuys's  evil  genius 
gave  him  an  inspiration  and  he  proceeded  to  get  me  into 
a  pretty  pickle. 

"Nkosikaas,  you  are  in  great  good  luck  that  we  came 
to  see  you,"  he  told  her.  "Mzaan  Bakoor  is  a  great 
white  witch-doctor  and  makes  the  muti  (medicine)  that 
cures  such  pains  as  you  have.  He  will  make  the  muti  for 
you  and  will  cure  you!" 

Labotsibeni  appeared  much  cheered  by  this  sugges- 
tion. I  was  not,  however.  I  had  no  medicines  with  me 
and  would  gladly  have  kicked  Tuys  for  making  the 
offer.  Shortly  after  this  we  left  the  queen,  with  the 
understanding  that  I  was  going  to  make  the  medicine 

195 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

that  would  cure  her  rheumatism  and  would  bring  it  to 
her  as  soon  as  it  was  ready. 

When  we  got  back  to  our  camp  I  blessed  Tuys  with 
a  real  Boer  outburst  of  profanity. 

"Why,  Tuys,  we  '11  make  the  old  lady  think  that  we 
are  the  worst  sort  of  fakirs,"  I  told  him.  "She  won't 
grant  me  the  right  to  take  the  pictures  when  she  finds  out 
that  we  have  fooled  her.  You  have  made  a  fine  mess 
of  things  I" 

But  Tuys  laughed  and  laughed  and  laughed.  He 
thought  it  was  one  of  the  funniest  situations  he  had  ever 
seen.  Looking  back  at  it,  I  can  see  the  humor  of  it, 
but  at  that  time  I  did  not  find  it  amusing.  Tuys  told  me 
I  would  have  to  go  through  with  it  and  produce  medi- 
cine that  would  at  least  make  his  word  good.  So  I  went 
to  work.  All  I  had  with  me  were  some  toilet  neces- 
sities. The  "muti"  was  compounded  at  length,  and  this 
is  the  way  the  prescription  read:  Two  ounces  each  of 
tooth-paste,  vaseline,  and  hair-tonic.  These  I  beat  up 
until  they  were  a  loose  paste  and  then  placed  them  in  a 
glass  jar  bearing  a  very  vivid  label.  This  jar  had  held 
my  photographic  chemicals. 

With  impressive  solemnity  we  returned  and  presented 
the  muti  to  the  queen.  Then  I  explained  the  treatment. 
Her  maids  were  to  take  cloth  soaked  in  hot  water  and 
apply  it  to  the  aching  parts  until  she  could  stand  it  no 
longer.  Then  small  portions  of  the  muti  were  to  be 
thoroughly  rubbed  in  until  the  pains  departed. 

All  this  impressed  Labotsibeni,  but  she  insisted  that 

196 


QUEEX  LABOTSIBEM,   MoTHJ.U  t)F  1<IX(;  BUXO 

During  Sebuza's  infancy  and  boyhood,  the  throne  receded  to  Queen  Labotsibeni,  his 

grandmother.    She  was  blind  and  more  than  one  hundred  years  old 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

the  "great  white  witch-doctor"  apply  the  treatment.  I 
had  to  do  it — ^that  is,  if  I  wanted  to  keep  her  favor. 
For  an  hour  I  massaged  the  old  woman,  and  when  the 
last  of  the  muti  was  rubbed  in  she  announced  that  her 
pains  were  gone  and  promptly  fell  asleep.  The  hot 
cloth,  as  I  had  guessed,  took  the  aches  out  of  her  shoul- 
ders and  back  and  the  villainous  muti  bluffed  her  into 
a  cure,  which  was  good  for  the  time  being  at  least.  It 
was  a  fine  piece  of  chicanery  for  a  graduate  of  two  of 
the  greatest  medical  colleges  to  have  to  practice,  but 
it  did  the  trick ! 

Next  morning  we  went  to  the  royal  hut  as  soon  as 
we  were  sent  for.  The  same  gin  ritual  had  to  be  fol- 
lowed, and  we  found  the  old  queen  quite  happy  and  a 
trifle  under  the  influence  of  the  liquor.  The  pictures 
had  turned  out  well,  and  Lomwazi  was  amazed  to  see 
himself  in  all  his  barbaric  beauty.  He  is  one  of  the 
strongest  men  in  Swaziland  and  is  very  vain  concerning 
his  athletic  prowess.  One  of  his  greatest  sports  is  to 
wrestle  with  any  one  who  will  stand  up  to  him,  and  he 
seldom  loses.  Hence,  when  he  saw  himself  in  the  pic- 
tures, he  felt  very  proud.  Immediately  he  christened 
the  camera  "the  white  man's  magic"  and  told  Labotsi- 
beni  all  about  it.  I  watched  this  talk,  and  it  was 
pathetic.  Lomwazi  explained  as  best  he  could  what  we 
had  done  and  then  handed  his  mother  the  picture  of  her- 
self, telling  her  to  look  at  it.  She  held  it  close  to  her 
eyes,  and  then  said: 

"The  white  man's  little  black  box  is  very  wonderful  I 

197 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

It  must  be  a  good  magic  or  my  son  would  not  recom- 
mend it  so  highly." 

If  she  had  been  able  to  see,  she  might  have  remarked 
that  the  picture  was  a  remarkably  good  likeness.  It 
was  the  only  time  she  was  ever  photographed,  and  it 
seemed  a  shame  that  the  old  queen  could  not  appre- 
ciate it. 

Again  we  brought  up  the  question  of  permission  to 
take  the  coronation  pictures.  I  explained  that  we 
wanted  to  do  the  same  with  Sebuza  as  we  had  done  with 
them.  This  seemed  to  be  all  right,  and  we  were  getting 
nearer  our  goal  when  Lomwazi  brought  up  the  question 
of  paying  for  the  royal  permission.  He  knew  that  the 
white  man  was  not  asking  this  favor  for  fun,  and  it 
came  to  him  that  we  ought  to  be  made  to  pay  for  it. 

"Nkoos,  you  have  come  far  to  ask  this  permission," 
he  said.  "You  have  trekked  through  the  rain  and  sun 
and  it  has  cost  you  time  and  money  to  get  here.  You 
would  not  have  done  this  if  the  queen's  permission  was 
not  of  great  value  to  you,  would  you?" 

I  had  to  admit  that  I  was  not  there  entirely  for  my 
health,  but  minimized  the  importance  of  the  pictures  to 
myself  personally. 

"These  pictures  will  show  the  glory  of  Swaziland  to 
the  whole  world,"  I  protested.  "I  shall  carry  them  over 
the  great  waters  to  all  the  countries  and  there  show  the 
people  what  a  wonderful  land  this  is.  I  will  show  the 
English,  the  Boers,  and  all  others  that  Sebuza  is  a  real 
king.    I  will  show  the  entire  world  that  the  son  of  Buno 

198 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

and  the  grandson  of  Queen  Labotsibeni  rules  one  of 
the  greatest  nations  in  the  whole  of  Africa!" 

This  oration  flattered  the  vanity  of  the  old  queen  and 
practically  settled  the  question.  Even  the  primitive 
Swazi  values  publicity.  Labotsibeni  agreed  that  we 
should  have  the  royal  permit  to  take  the  coronation  pic- 
tures, and  the  next  question  was  what  I  would  pay. 
This  was  debated  for  some  time.  I  tried  to  make  Lom- 
wazi  set  a  price  for  the  permission,  while  he,  cunning 
beggar,  tried  to  get  me  to  make  an  offer. 

Now  the  Swazi  has  only  a  few  standards  of  value. 
He  recognizes  the  fact  that  women,  gold,  gin,  and  cattle 
have  values  that  are  stable  everywhere.  These  values 
are  about  as  follows: 

One  gold  pound  buys  one  cow; 

Five  cows  buy  one  woman; 

One  quart  of  gin  buys  whatever  it  will,  according 
to  the  degree  with  which  it  is  desired  by  a  Swazi. 

Five  cows,  however,  are  not  a  standard  price  for  all 
women.  Only  the  women  of  the  plain  people  are  valued 
at  so  low  a  figure.  If  the  women  to  be  bought  are  of 
good  family,  that  is,  if  they  are  the  daughters  of  in- 
dunas,  they  are  worth  more  than  five  cows.  I  have 
known  princesses  to  be  bought  for  as  much  as  fifty 
cows.  These  were  the  exception,  however,  since  these 
girls  were  the  daughters  of  a  high  chief. 

I  was  prepared  to  offer  cattle,  gin,  and  money,  and 
had  brought  along  a  certain  amount  of  the  latter.    Lom- 

199 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

wazi,  however,  started  the  deal  with  women  as  his 
counters. 

"How  many  young  women,  all  maidens,  are  you  pre- 
pared to  give?"  he  asked. 

*'It  would  take  too  long  a  time  to  get  the  women," 
I  objected,  "and  I  don't  wish  to  trade  women  for  the 
permission.  I  am  ready  to  pay  a  small  amount  of  gin 
and  money,  and  perhaps  some  cows,  but  I  cannot  get 
women  now." 

"Can't  you  get  ten  or  fifteen  women,  Nkoos?"  Labot- 
sibeni  asked  in  her  husky  voice.  "My  son,  Lomwazi,  has 
but  few  wives  and  I  have  so  few  maids.  It  would  be 
very  agreeable  if  you  could  get  a  small  number  of 
women." 

Lomwazi  agreed  with  her  in  this,  and  I  had  to  argue 
for  some  time  to  get  out  of  the  woman  phase  of  the 
bargaining.  Oom  Tuys,  although  he  knew  it  was 
against  the  law  for  white  men  to  buy  and  sell  women, 
pooh-poohed  my  scruples  and  told  me  to  turn  him  loose 
and  he  would  get  me  all  the  women  I  wanted.  How- 
ever, I  remained  firm  in  my  refusal  and  the  dickering 
took  another  tack. 

"Well  then,  we  '11  buy  the  women  we  need,"  Lom- 
wazi said.  "Mzaan  Bakoor,  you  will  have  to  give  much 
gin  and  money,  and  also  cows.  The  queen  has  decided 
that  one  thousand  pounds,  one  thousand  quarts  of  gin, 
and  one  thousand  cows  shall  be  the  price." 

The  old  queen  nodded  her  approval.  I  had  not  seen 
her  confer  with  her  vizier  and  realized  that  he  was  acting 

200 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

on  his  own  authority.  This  showed  me  his  power  and 
how  much  the  old  lady  trusted  him.  I  then  set  out  to 
get  the  price  down  to  where  we  could  really  talk  busi- 
ness. I  had  an  idea  that  Lomwazi  did  not  know  how 
many  there  were  in  a  thousand,  but  had  used  that  figure 
as  a  basis  for  the  deal. 

When  I  suggested  that  the  thousand  figure  was  pre- 
posterous, he  reminded  me  that  it  was  only  as  many  as 
there  were  men  in  the  royal  impi,  thus  proving  that  he 
actually  knew  what  "one  thousand"  meant. 

We  talked  back  and  forth,  Labotsibeni  every  now 
and  then  putting  in  a  word.  The  upshot  of  it  all  was 
that  I  agreed  to  pay  five  hundred  gallons  of  gin,  five 
hundred  gold  pounds  or  sovereigns,  and  five  hundred 
cows  for  the  right  to  take  the  pictures. 

Oom  Tuys  thought  I  was  a  fool  to  give  them  so  much. 

"That  is  a  tremendous  price  to  pay  for  a  few  reels  of 
these  savages,"  he  said;  "particularly,  when  there  is  a 
good  chance  that  you  will  not  be  ready  to  take  the  pic- 
tures before  the  coronation  takes  place.  To  protect 
you,  I  shall  make  them  promise  to  keep  you  informed 
as  to  when  the  show  will  take  place,  so  that  you  can  get 
on  the  job." 

He  then  pinned  down  the  old  queen,  Lomwazi,  and 
Debeseembie  to  a  solemn  promise  that  they  would  send 
me  word  as  soon  as  preparations  were  under  way  to  make 
Sebuza  king.  It  is  a  point  of  honor  among  the  royalty 
and  high  cliiefs  of  the  Swazis  that  their  word  is  good, 

20X 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

and  this  promise  assured  me  that  I  would  not  lose  my 
opportunity. 

Next  came  the  problem  of  paying  for  the  rights  to 
take  the  pictures.  Money  I  had  with  me,  and  I  was 
soon  able  to  buy  enough  cows  to  make  up  the  required 
number.  The  gin,  however,  was  not  so  easy.  It  is 
against  the  law  to  bring  gin  into  Swaziland,  although 
the  authorities  did  not  object  to  a  few  bottles  being 
brought  to  the  old  queen.  On  Tuys's  advice,  I  arranged 
that  the  five  hundred  gallons  be  brought  in  through 
Komatipoort,  from  Portuguese  territory.  This  confes- 
sion, I  suppose,  will  make  me  liable  to  arrest  when  I  re- 
turn to  the  Transvaal.  To  avoid  detection,  the  gallon 
jugs  were  each  packed  in  bags  of  straw  surrounded  by 
chaff,  being  carried  over  the  border  by  native  women. 
They  looked  as  though  they  were  carrying  corn,  and 
the  government  officials  let  them  pass  without  suspicion. 

After  making  the  payment  we  set  out  for  Ermelo. 
We  had  been  about  a  fortnight  on  our  trip,  and  both 
Snyman  and  Biddy  were  anxious  to  get  back.  We  took 
the  short-cut  by  way  of  Mbabane  and  made  good  time, 
the  roads  being  fairly  hard. 

We  had  one  shock,  however.  When  we  reached  the 
Masuto  River  we  found  that  the  "flu"  had  visited  there 
during  our  absence.  First  the  Scotch  engineer  had 
died  and  been  buried  by  the  Boer  farmer  who  had  given 
us  food;  then  the  farmer  had  died  and  been  put  away 
by  the  young  storekeeper  with  the  hunted  eyes;  and 
finally  he  had  died  and  been  hidden  in  a  shallow  grave 

202 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

near  his  store  by  some  passing  strangers.  All  three 
were  gone,  and  this  cast  a  gloom  over  our  party,  so 
that  we  were  glad  to  leave  the  spot. 

The  river  had  gone  down  and  we  were  able  to  ford  it 
without  much  trouble,  although  Snyman  had  hard  luck 
and  fell  out  of  the  wagonette  into  the  only  deep  spot. 

I  remembered  that  there  were  several  women  at  the 
house  of  the  dead  farmer,  so  we  went  there  to  pay  our 
respects  and  offer  them  any  assistance  we  could.  The 
house  was  closed  and  they  were  all  gone,  evidently  to 
some  of  their  relatives  near  Ermelo.  We  were  about 
to  return  to  the  wagonette  when  I  thought  I  saw  some- 
thing stirring  near  an  orange-tree  back  of  the  house. 

It  was  a  "blaau  app,"  or  blue  monkey,  which  was  tied 
to  the  tree.  The  farmer's  women  had  forgotten  the  poor 
beast  when  they  went  away  and  it  was  pathetically  glad 
to  see  me.  It  must  have  been  very  hungry,  for  it  had 
been  eating  oranges,  as  the  skins  strewn  on  the  ground 
showed.  It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  heard  of  a 
monkey  eating  such  food.  When  I  cut  it  loose,  the 
poor  thing  jumped  into  my  arms  and  I  took  it  back  to 
the  wagonette,  where  we  fed  it.  Biddy  and  Snyman 
soon  started  an  argument  as  to  what  its  name  should  be. 
The  first  wanted  to  call  it  "Labotsibeni,"  but  the  other 
thought  "Victoria,"  in  memory  of  a  late-lamented  Queen 
of  England,  would  be  a  nice  name.  So,  since  it  was  my 
monkey,  I  called  her  "Jennie,"  whereat  the  others  up- 
braided me  for  my  lack  of  inspiration.  To  add  to  their 
iniquity,  no  sooner  did  we  unpack  in  Ermelo  than  they 

203 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

started  a  preposterous  yarn  about  how  I  had  stolen 
"Jennie"  from  old  Queen  Labotsibeni.  They  said  that 
the  monkey  was  her  consolation  in  old  age  and  that  I 
had  decoyed  it  away,  thus  breaking  the  aged  queen's 
heart. 

This  was  not  the  last  of  "Jennie,"  however.  The 
young  doctor  who  had  taken  over  my  practice  was  carry- 
ing on  well,  and  he  adopted  the  monkey.  She  had  the 
run  of  the  place  and  was  quite  contented  in  her  new 
home  until  one  morning  we  were  awakened  by  a  fearful 
row.  The  peacocks  next  door  were  screeching  at  the 
top  of  their  lungs  and  their  owner,  a  gruff  old  English- 
man, was  out  on  the  lawn  using  very  bad  language. 

I  ran  out — and  found  "Jennie"  up  a  tree  with  her 
hands  full  of  the  long  tail-feathers  from  several  of  the 
proudest  peacocks !  It  took  me  some  time  to  pacify  the 
Englishman,  who  demanded  her  life  and  was  calling 
for  his  shotgun.  Finally  I  smoothed  the  troubled 
waters,  but  "Jennie"  was  not  allowed  to  run  loose  after 
that. 

Having  obtained  the  picture  rights,  I  was  anxious 
to  have  them  taken  properly.  I  scouted  about,  but  could 
not  find  the  equipment  or  camera-men  I  needed,  so  I 
decided  to  go  to  New  York  and  get  them.  Oom  Tuys 
agreed  to  watch  things  in  Swaziland  and  delay  the 
coronation  until  I  could  get  back.  I  felt  I  could  trust 
him  to  protect  me,  so  I  started  to  make  arrangements 
for  my  overseas  trip. 

This  was  not  any  too  easy,  because  the  war  had  dis- 

204 


TYPE  OF  AFRIKANDER  CATTLE 
These  cattle  are  the  unit  of  value  among  the  Swazis  and  enter  into  every  business  transaction. 


SWAZI  WOMEN   AT   HOME 
Fashion  is  as  inflexible  in  Swaziland  as  anywhere,  but  the  styles  do  not  change. 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

arranged  sailings  and  there  were  not  many  ships  touching 
at  Cape  Town.  However,  I  soon  saw  in  the  paper  that 
there  was  a  freight  steamer  in  port  which  was  to  sail 
direct  to  New  York.  I  knew  the  skipper  and  tele- 
graphed him  that  there  was  an  emergency  that  required 
my  sailing  with  him. 

"If  you  care  to  take  a  chance,"  he  wired  back,"  join 
the  ship  as  soon  as  you  can." 

Just  as  I  was  leaving,  Tuys  reached  Ermelo  with  a 
message  from  Lomwazi  that  Sebuza  would  be  crowned 
within  the  next  two  months.  This  made  me  all  the  more 
anxious  to  be  gone,  and  I  left  Tuys  with  the  understand- 
ing that  he  would  do  his  best  to  delay  the  coronation 
until  I  got  back  from  New  York. 


205 


CHAPTER  XIII 

I  start  for  New  Ifork — The  religious  atmosphere  on  shipboard — "Flu" 
attacks  the  Javanese — The  missionaries  refuse  to  help — Sharks  as 
scavengers — The  little  mother's  end — Evils  of  liquor — Assembling  my 
party  in  New  York — Passage  as  freight — St.  Lucia  and  a  little  excite- 
ment— ^The  thin  magistrate — Released  on  bail. 

WHEN  I  reached  the  ship  I  found  the  reason  for 
the  captain's  pecuHar  telegram.  He  had  more 
than  three  thousand  Javanese  on  board  whom  he  was 
taking  from  the  East  Indies  to  Paramaribo,  Dutch 
Guiana.  From  there  he  would  go  on  to  New  York. 
These  people  were  practically  deck  cargo,  since  there 
were  no  accommodations  for  them  inside  the  ship. 

While  making  arrangements  for  my  cabin,  I  found 
that  there  was  a  woman  who  also  had  to  go  to  New  York. 
Although  my  friend,  the  captain,  objected,  I  gave  up 
my  cabin  to  her  and  agreed  to  share  the  cabin  of  an  old 
Javanese  gentleman  who  was  supposed  to  be  in  charge 
of  the  others.  He  was  very  primitive  and  ignorant, 
but  spoke  Dutch  fluently,  and  I  learned  a  great  deal 
about  Java  and  the  East  Indies — ^that  is,  while  he  lived, 
which  was  not  long. 

The  first  night  out  of  Cape  Town  there  were  twenty- 
four  of  us  at  the  long  table  in  the  saloon.  All  the 
officers  ate  with  us,  and  there  must  have  been  sixteen 
or  seventeen  passengers  all  told. 

206 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Most  important  of  the  passengers  were  seven  Amer- 
ican missionaries  returning  from  their  godly  work  in 
the  waste  places  of  Africa  and  the  East  Indies.  They 
were  most  conspicuous  at  all  times  and  did  everything 
possible  to  keep  table  conversation  confined  to  religious 
topics.  I  chummed  with  a  Canadian  who  represented 
an  American  agricultural  firm  in  South  Africa,  and 
we  soon  became  weary  of  religion  at  all  meals. 

"Ther'e  's  a  place  for  everything  in  this  world,"  he 
said  one  morning  after  breakfast,  "but  I  '11  be  damned 
if  I  want  to  combine  kippered  herrings  with  my  soul's 
salvation!" 

It  was  not  long  before  both  of  us  were  in  the  bad 
graces  of  the  missionaries,  who  did  not  hesitate  to  mur- 
mur that  "it  was  no  wonder  that  the  savages  did  not 
heed  the  call  of  Christ  when  the  white  men  of  their 
country  were  so  irreligious!" 

About  the  third  day  both  the  Canadian  and  I  had 
had  our  fill  of  the  missionaries.  We  were  thinking  of 
asking  the  captain  to  allow  us  to  eat  at  another  hour 
when  something  happened  that  changed  the  whole 
aspect  of  the  ship.  I  had  gone  to  my  cabin  to  get  some 
"smokes"  when  the  little  old  Javanese  crept  in.  He 
answered  my  cheerful  greeting  very  quietly  and  then 
shut  the  door.  I  could  see  that  something  had  hit  him 
and  that  he  wanted  to  talk.  So  I  sat  down  on  my 
bunk,  wondering  what  the  trouble  was. 

"Doctor,  there  is  great  trouble  among  my  people," 
he  said  in  a  low  voice.    "Last  night  eleven  of  them  died, 

207 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

and  now  they  are  dying  all  the  time.  Some  terrible 
plague  is  among  them  and  they  die,  they  die!" 

This  startled  me.  I  had  not  noticed  that  there  was 
anything  amiss  forward,  but  then  I  remembered  I  had 
spent  practically  all  my  time  aft.  Instantly  there  came 
to  me  the  recollection  of  the  sudden  deaths  of  my  friends 
at  the  ford  of  the  Masuto  River.  I  asked  him  what  form 
the  disease  seemed  to  take  and  he  gave  me  a  lot  of 
rambhng  details,  none  of  which  made  much  sense.  He 
was  plainly  in  a  blue  funk.  I  told  him  to  stay  where  he 
was  and  then  went  to  the  captain's  cabin. 

"I  was  just  about  to  send  for  you,  Doctor  O'Neil," 
he  said  in  greeting.  "Something  has  broken  loose 
among  those  Java  coohes  and  they  are  dying  like  flies. 
As  you  know,  we  have  no  doctor  on  board.  Will  you 
go  and  see  what's  the  matter?'* 

Then  he  told  me  that  the  first  officer  had  buried  more 
than  a  dozen  the  first  thing  that  morning  and  that  he 
would  have  to  throw  another  lot  overboard  by  noon. 

"Why,  they  're  dying  like  flies,"  he  continued,  "and 
we  Ve  got  to  do  something  to  stop  it.  I  shipped  a  full 
three  thousand  of  them,  but  at  the  rate  they  're  going 
I  won't  have  a  thousand  left  when  I  reach  Paramaribo!" 

So  the  captain  and  I  went  into  the  forecastle,  taking 
with  us  the  little  Javanese  head  man.  It  took  me  about 
five  minutes  to  find  out  what  was  the  trouble. 

"They  've  got  the  'flu'  and  got  it  bad,"  I  told  the  skip- 
per.   "It  looks  as  though  we  are  in  for  a  bad  time." 

I  was  right.     Here  we  were  in  the  midst  of  nearly 

208 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

three  thousand  ignorant  people  who  had  no  idea  of  what 
was  the  matter.  All  they  knew  was  that  the  man  who 
was  sick  now  would  be  dead  in  a  short  time.  They  sat 
about,  perfectly  quiet,  waiting  for  death.  I  have  never 
seen  such  resignation.  In  the  scuppers  there  were  six 
or  seven  bodies  waiting  for  the  first  officer  and  his  burial 
crew.  No  one  paid  any  attention  to  the  dead;  they  just 
sat  about  as  though  stupefied  by  what  was  happening. 

"There  's  just  one  thing  to  do,"  I  told  the  captain 
when  we  got  back  to  his  cabin,  "and  that 's  to  organize 
a  life-saving  corps  and  get  to  work.  Let 's  get  all 
the  medicine  you  have  and  as  much  brandy  as  there  is 
on  board  and  make  a  fight." 

He  agreed  with  me,  and  we  overhauled  the  medical 
stores,  finding  little  of  any  use  in  the  present  crisis. 
I  have  forgotten  now  what  there  was,  but  I  remember 
thinking  that  we  would  have  to  put  our  trust  in  God  and 
alcohol.  I  told  the  captain  how  inadequate  his  medi- 
cines were  and  he  threw  up  his  hands. 

"Who  'd  ever  expect  to  get  the  'flu'  on  board,  any- 
way," he  asked,  as  though  it  were  my  fault.  "I  Ve  got 
all  the  medicines  I  need  for  the  usual  ailments  and 
brandy  will  cure  most  of  the  sicknesses  that  occur  on 
this  ship.  I  'U  give  you  all  the  brandy,  rum,  and  gin 
there  is,  and  then  you  go  to  it !" 

He  was  panic-stricken  and  practically  told  me  I  was 
to  take  command  of  his  ship,  except  that  he  would  take 
care  of  the  navigation  and  discipline.  I  told  him  the 
first  thing  I  wanted  was  assistants,  and  asked  him  to 

209 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

summon  all  the  passengers  to  the  saloon.  When  they 
were  assembled,  I  got  up  and  told  them  what  it  was  all 
about. 

"These  poor  devils  of  Javanese  are  dying  like  rats  in 
a  hole,"  I  said,  "and  I  want  volunteers  to  help  me  save 
them.  There  is  n  't  much  we  can  do,  and  every  time 
you  go  among  them  you  stand  a  chance  of  catching  the 
'flu.'  They  may  not  be  good  Christians,  but  they  are 
certainly  our  fellow  men  and  it  is  our  duty  to  help  them! 
I  want  volunteers  and  want  them  now.  Who  will  join 
my  life-saving  crew?" 

Instantly  the  lady  to  whom  I  had  given  my  cabin 
and  my  Canadian  friend  volunteered.  The  others  fol- 
lowed one  by  one,  with  the  prominent  exception  of  the 
missionaries.  I  was  astounded  that  they  were  not 
among  the  first,  and  turned  to  them. 

"What 's  the  matter?"  I  asked,  by  that  time  annoyed 
at  their  holding  back.  "Don  't  you  want  to  practice  a 
little  practical  Christianity?  Are  none  of  you  going 
to  give  us  a  hand  in  this  fight?" 

They  did  not  deign  to  answer.  Instead,  they  looked 
at  their  leader,  a  tall  gentleman  with  lean  jowls,  and 
he  calmly  turned  and  left  the  saloon.  They  trooped 
after  him,  and  then  our  captain  exploded. 

"Of  all  the  yellow  dogs!"  he  exclaimed.  "So  that 's 
the  sort  of  people  they  send  out  as  missionaries!  I  'd 
like  to  throw  them  all  overboard !  Why,  they  '11  hoodoo 
my  ship!  I  was  brought  up  to  believe  a  parson  put  a 
curse  on  a  ship,  and  now  I  know  its  so!'* 

210 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Well,  we  pitched  in  and  laid  out  our  fight.  It  was 
a  seemingly  hopeless  job.  These  Javanese  did  not  ap- 
pear to  want  to  help  themselves.  Their  only  idea  was  to 
die,  if  they  were  called,  and  there  was  never  a  peep  out 
of  any  of  them. 

Men  died  and  were  sent  to  the  sharks,  leaving  their 
women  mute  in  their  agony;  wives  and  mothers  died, 
and  their  men  never  turned  a  hair ;  children  died  in  their 
mother's  arms  and  were  cast  into  the  sea  without  the 
least  outward  sign. 

I  mention  the  sharks,  but  even  now  I  hate  to  think 
of  them.  They  loafed  along  beside  the  ship,  their 
great  bodies  slipping  easily  through  the  water,  with  now 
and  then  the  flash  of  a  white  belly  as  they  turned  to  meet 
the  falhng  body.  The  Javanese  were  dying  at  a  rate 
of  between  fifteen  and  twenty  a  day,  and  we  soon  ran 
out  of  weights  for  their  bodies.  The  sharks  increased 
in  number  until  it  seemed  as  though  word  had  been 
sent  out  that  there  was  a  "death  ship"  on  the  sea.  Be- 
fore long  they  were  fighting  for  the  bodies.  I  watched 
one  such  conflict,  but  one  was  quite  enough. 

My  volunteers  and  I  worked  day  and  night  to  stem 
the  tide  of  the  "flu,"  and  through  it  all  the  ship  plugged 
along  across  a  sea  that  was  more  like  beaten  brass  than 
copper.  It  was  hot,  very  hot,  and  at  night  the  decks 
seemed  to  steam.  Always  the  impi  of  sharks  kept  pace 
with  us,  their  bodies  throwing  up  streaks  of  phosphor- 
escence as  they  lunged  for  their  food.    The  whole  thing 

211 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

was  like  a  living  nightmare  and  it  seemed  as  though  it 
would  never  end. 

Out  of  the  haze  of  those  ghastly  days  there  comes  to 
me  one  vivid  incident.  One  of  the  Javanese  women,  a 
mother  of  seventeen  or  thereabouts,  had  a  child  of  less 
than  a  year  in  her  arms.  I  first  noticed  her  when  she 
held  up  her  baby  to  me  as  I  was  going  among  the  suf- 
ferers. The  look  in  her  eyes  was  so  pleading,  so  trust- 
ing, that  I  took  the  little  boy  from  her  and  examined 
him.  The  baby  was  as  good  as  dead  already.  I  gave 
it  a  sip  of  the  stuff  I  was  carrying,  and  the  poor  little 
thing  opened  its  eyes  and  looked  at  me.  I  knew  it  could 
not  live,  but  smiled  encouragement  as  I  gave  it  back 
to  the  outstretched  arms. 

It  was  about  sunset  that  night  when  the  little  mother 
realized  that  her  son,  her  first-born,  had  gone.  I  was 
standing  on  the  companionway,  looking  down  on  the 
fore-deck  and  wondering  how  long  the  plague  would 
last,  when  some  of  the  crew  began  picking  bodies  out  of 
the  scuppers  and  throwing  them  overboard.  The  glory 
of  the  simiset  seemed  a  mockery  and  the  thought  came  to 
me  that  I  would  be  fortunate  if  I  saw  many  more  such 
sights.  Slowly  the  young  Javanese  mother  got  to  her 
feet  and  stood  swaying  as  she  wrapped  her  baby  in  a 
gay  shawl.  This  done,  she  pressed  it  to  her  breast  and 
began  to  walk  to  the  rail. 

"She  is  going  to  bury  her  son  herself,"  I  thought, 
and  I  was  partly  right. 

She  stood  at  the  rail  for  a  moment  and  then,  the  dying 

212 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

sun  bright  on  her  wistful  face,  turned  and  smiled  at  me. 
I  smiled  back,  but  the  smile  died  aborning,  for  with  one 
motion  she  rolled  over  the  rail  and  was  gone! 

I  rushed  to  the  place  and  looked  over.  The  shadow 
of  the  ship  was  broken  by  some  swirling  streaks  of 
phosphorescence,  and  that  was  all.  There  was  no  sign 
of  the  little  Java  wife  who  could  not  live  without  her 
baby. 

That  night  I  asked  the  old  Javanese  chief  about  her. 
In  his  clear  Dutch  he  told  me  that  she  was  the  wife  of 
a  Javanese  who  had  gone  to  Guiana  some  months  be- 
fore. She  was  to  join  him  and  bring  his  son,  of  whom 
he  was  very  proud,  when  he  had  estabhshed  their  home 
in  the  new  land. 

"Now,  how  can  I  tell  him  about  this?"  the  old  fellow 
asked.  "He  will  want  his  wife  and  child,  and  I  will  only 
have  a  sad  story  for  him." 

But  he  was  spared  this.  Early  the  next  morning  I 
noticed  that  he  was  ill,  and  in  spite  of  all  I  could  do 
he  passed  away  before  noon.  Shortly  before  he  lapsed 
into  unconsciousness  he  sent  for  me. 

"I  must  go  with  those  who  have  already  gone,"  he 
said.  "They  need  me  and  have  sent  for  me.  I  can  only 
go  if  I  know  that  you,  the  great  white  doctor,  will 
guard  and  care  for  those  whom  I  leave  behind.  Will 
you  do  this?" 

Naturally,  I  promised,  and  that  was  the  last  I  saw  of 
him.    He  was  a  kindly,  simple,  old  soul  and  the  misfor- 

213 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

tune  of  his  people  would  have  broken  his  heart,  had  he 
lived. 

In  a  little  while  the  "flu"  began  to  lose  its  grip. 
Fewer  and  fewer  died  each  day,  and  I  had  begun  to 
think  that  the  end  was  in  sight  when  the  white  lady  who 
was  going  to  America  came  down  with  it.  She  had  been 
tireless  in  her  efforts  to  help  in  caring  for  the  Javanese 
and  I  was  not  surprised  when  she  fell  ill.  She  was  the 
only  white  person  aboard  to  catch  the  "flu."  We 
did  everything  possible  for  her,  but  she  died  on  the 
second  day. 

As  her  body  went  overboard  the  captain  read  aloud 
from  the  Bible,  choosing  the  passage,  "Greater  love 
hath  no  man  than  this,  that  a  man  lay  down  his  life  for 
his  friends."  This  struck  me  as  particularly  appro- 
priate, since  she  had  truly  given  her  life  for  those  Jav- 
anese. After  her  death  the  "flu"  devil  seemed  satisfied 
and  abandoned  us.  Before  the  end,  however,  we  had 
lost  more  than  twelve  hundred  of  the  Javanese ! 

The  missionaries  kept  close  to  their  cabins  during  the 
whole  "flu"  visitation,  only  appearing  now  and  then  on 
the  afterdeck.  They  even  gave  this  up  as  soon  as  the 
captain  suggested  that  the  wind  might  carry  "flu"  germs 
to  them.  In  spite  of  their  protestations,  they  had  to  eat 
with  the  rest  of  us  or  go  hungry.  The  captain  insisted 
on  this  point,  since  he  felt  that  they  deserved  no  con- 
sideration and  it  was  also  highly  entertaining  to  watch 
their  indignation  when  we  all  took  a  stiff  nip  of  brandy 
with  our  meals.    They  spoke  of  what  a  great  thing  pro- 

214 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

hibition  was  for  the  United  States,  and  every  time  they 
said  it  they  would  look  meaningly  at  the  Canadian  and 
me.  In  fact,  after  the  "flu"  left  us  the  missionaries 
varied  their  religious  conversations  by  giving  table-talks 
on  the  evils  of  liquor.  I  remember  how  shocked  they 
professed  to  be  when  I  told  them  how  much  old  Labotsi- 
beni  liked  her  toddy  and  how  we  always  brought  it  to 
her  when  we  visited  Swaziland. 

When  we  reached  Free  Town,  in  the  Barbadoes,  an 
incident  happened  which  was  very  amusing,  but  which 
these  fanatics  used  to  point  out  the  evils  of  liquor.  I 
knew  some  people  there,  and  the  Canadian  and  I  went 
ashore  and  called  on  them.  Of  course  there  was  "a 
party,"  and  we  enjoyed  ourselves  in  free  and  easy 
fashion. 

Now  the  ship  lay  about  a  mile  off  port,  because  there 
was  not  sufficient  water  to  allow  her  to  dock.  We  went 
ashore  in  rowboats  and  came  back  in  the  same  way.  The 
deck  was  reached  by  a  thirty-foot  ladder,  which  is  not 
the  safest  sort  of  footing  at  best.  On  our  return  from 
the  party  my  friend  missed  his  step  at  the  top  of  the 
ladder  and  fell  plump  into  the  sea.  There  were  a  num- 
ber of  boats  about  and  he  was  fished  out  without  diffi- 
culty. The  captain  and  I  regarded  the  mishap  as  a  good 
joke  on  the  Canadian,  but  at  dinner  that  night  the  mis- 
sionaries used  it  as  the  text  for  an  extended  discourse 
on  the  evils  of  strong  drink. 

One  female  missionary  told  us  a  story  which  led  to  a 
retort  that  is  worth  repeating. 

215 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"Forty-odd  years  ago  three  prominent  Philadelphia 
doctors  decided  that  drink  and  tobacco  were  the  two 
great  evils  of  the  world,"  she  said,  "so  they  agreed  never 
to  touch  either  as  long  as  they  lived.  They  agreed  that 
they  would  all  meet  after  forty  years  and  see  how  they 
compared  with  their  drinking,  smoking,  dissipating 
friends.  AJl  lived  up  to  the  agreement  faithfully.  Then 
they  met  in  Philadelphia  as  before,  and  were  amazed  to 
see  how  energetic,  health-perfect,  and  generally  superior 
they  were  to  those  who  remained  of  their  friends.  They 
were  now  between  seventy  and  eighty  years  old  and  yet 
were  as  active  as  men  scores  of  years  younger. 

"This  proves  conclusively,"  she  concluded,  "that  all 
the  ills  of  old  age  are  directly  due  to  drink  and  tobacco." 

Naturally,  we  agreed  with  her.  This,  of  course,  we 
should  not  have  done,  since  the  fanatic  gets  no  pleasure 
unless  able  to  argue  for  his  creed.  My  Canadian  friend, 
however,  could  not  contain  himself. 

"Dr.  O'Neil  told  me  a  similar  case  this  morning,"  he 
said  quite  seriously.  "It  was  about  his  uncle.  This 
uncle  is  now  one  hundred  and  five  years  old  and  is  be- 
ginning to  worry  about  his  health.  Not  long  ago  he  was 
talking  about  drink  and  tobacco  and  told  the  doctor  here 
that  he  had  smoked  steadily  since  he  was  seven  years  old ; 
also  that  since  he  was  fourteen  he  had  drunk  like  a  fish. 
'And  look  at  me,'  he  concluded;  'look  at  me!  I  know 
this  whiskey  will  get  me  in  the  end !'  " 

There  was  a  roar  of  laughter  about  the  table,  but  the 
seven  missionaries  did  not  join  in  it.    Instead,  we  went 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

out  of  their  lives  forever,  and  in  the  long  days  that  fol- 
lowed, the  skipper,  the  Canadian,  and  I  spent  most  of 
our  time  together. 

The  remainder  of  our  voyage  was  uneventful  and  we 
finally  reached  New  York.  Here  I  found  a  cable  from 
Oom  Tuys  saying  that  the  coronation  was  to  be  held  soon 
and  advising  me  to  return  as  quickly  possible. 

I  realized  that  no  time  could  be  lost  and  rushed  about 
the  city  getting  my  equipment  and  party  together.  I 
engaged  Dr.  Leonard  Sugden,  the  arctic  explorer,  as 
art  and  field  director,  William  T.  Crespinell  as  technical 
expert,  and  Earl  Rossman  as  camera-man.  Since  they 
were  to  do  the  work,  I  had  them  buy  the  equipment.  A 
feature  of  this  was  the  manner  in  which  the  reels  of  film 
were  packed.  Knowing  the  difficulties  of  the  Transvaal 
climate,  Crespinell  had  them  soldered  in  tins  which  were 
again  placed  in  other  tins.  These  were  also  soldered  and 
the  air  exhausted  between  the  outer  and  inner  tins,  so 
that  the  films  practically  traveled  in  a  thermos  bottle. 

After  assembling  my  party  and  equipment,  the  next 
step  was  to  get  the  whole  outfit  to  Swaziland.  This 
was  a  terrific  undertaking.  The  war  had  so  disar- 
ranged the  world's  shipping  that  I  spent  days  on  the 
docks  of  Staten  Island  and  South  Brooklyn  trying  to 
find  a  ship  that  would  take  us  to  Cape  Town.  Finally, 
after  almost  despairing,  I  was  able  to  book  passage  for 
Crespinell  and  Rossman  on  the  steamer  "City  of  Buenos 
Aires,"  which  went  direct  to  Cape  Town.  A  day  later 
the  captain  of  a  freighter  for  the  same  port  was  induced 

m 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

to  include  Dr.  Sugden  and  myself  in  his  cargo.  He 
did  not  know  when  he  would  start,  but  assured  me  that 
it  would  be  soon. 

This  was  on  a  Saturday,  and  I  told  Sugden  to  stand 
by  and  wait  for  word  to  go  on  board.  I  saw  that  our 
equipment  was  stowed  in  the  forward  hold  of  the  ship, 
and  then  went  up  to  Fairfield,  Connecticut,  where  some 
friends  of  my  Harvard  days  were  living.  They  invited 
me  to  stay  until  I  had  to  sail,  and  I  settled  down  to 
have  a  pleasant  visit.  They  have  a  fine  farm  and  a 
barbecue  was  arranged  in  my  honor.  This  barbecue  was 
held  in  the  woods,  and  we  were  in  the  midst  of  it  when 
a  servant  came  from  the  house  with  a  telegram  from  the 
captain  of  the  ship.  He  said  that  he  would  sail  at  eleven 
o'clock  the  next  morning! 

At  once  commenced  a  mad  rush.  I  got  Sugden's  hotel 
on  the  long  distance  telephone,  but  they  only  knew  that 
he  had  gone  somewhere  in  the  country  to  spend  the 
week-end.  I  hurried  back  to  New  York  and  looked  up 
every  address  where  I  might  get  information  about 
him,  but  was  unable  to  locate  him.  I  kept  trying  up  to 
the  last  moment,  but  finally  could  only  leave  word  at  his 
hotel  that  I  was  sailing.  I  went  aboard  very  low  in 
mind  because  his  duties  with  my  proposed  expedition 
were  of  great  importance. 

But  Sugden  is  one  of  those  mortals  who  seldom  gets 
left.  As  we  swung  down  the  bay  past  the  Statue  of 
Liberty,  I  spied  a  tug  coming  after  us  with  great  speed. 
In  addition,  she  was  whistling  and  generally  acting  as 

218 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

though  she  was  trying  to  catch  our  freighter.  We  were 
going  slowly,  so  that  in  a  short  time  the  little  craft  fussed 
up  alongside — and  there  was  Sugden  waving  his  hand 
from  her  forward  deck!  A  rope-ladder  was  lowered, 
and  a  moment  later  I  was  gleefully  shaking  hands  with 
him. 

Now  this  was  to  be  one  of  the  most  memorable  voy- 
ages of  my  life — and  I  have  traveled  a  good  deal.  To 
begin  with,  we  had  the  worst  accommodations  I  have 
ever  endured  on  any  vessel.  Our  ship  was  only  a  cargo 
boat  and  there  were  no  passenger-cabins  whatever.  We 
slept  in  a  sort  of  steerage  in  the  hold,  in  company  with 
twelve  of  the  crew.  It  was  the  most  filthy  hole  I  was 
ever  in  and  reeked  with  vermin,  including  rats  of  the 
largest  and  most  ferocious  kind.  The  crew  were  the  usual 
scum  found  on  such  boats  and  were  the  dirtiest  human 
beings  I  have  ever  seen.  They  disapproved  of  us — and 
we  of  them — ^to  such  a  degree  that  I  often  expected  they 
would  try  to  do  us  harm.  Sugden,  however,  took  all 
this  as  part  of  the  game,  and  his  sporting  spirit  made 
it  possible  for  us  to  exist.  His  experiences  in  the  Far 
North  had  made  him  familiar  with  all  sorts  of  white 
men,  but  I  had  never  seen  such  as  these.  People  now 
and  then  speak  shghtingly  of  the  kaffir,  but  the  Swazi, 
with  his  daily  ablutions,  is  a  very  superior  person  when 
compared  with  these  so-called  "white  men." 

When  our  ship  reached  the  warmer  latitudes  our  hole 
became  unbearable  and  we  moved  our  pallets  to  the 
poop-deck,  where  we  managed  to  get  some  sleep  in  spite 

219 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

of  the  terrific  rainstorms  we  ran  into.  We  felt  that  it 
was  better  to  be  drowned  by  clean  rainwater  than  to 
suffocate  and  die  slowly  in  our  steerage  bunks.  How- 
ever, our  miserable  existence  used  to  get  on  our  nerves 
now  and  then  and  we  would  drown  our  sorrows  with 
whatever  liquor  we  could  obtain. 

There  was  one  other  passenger  on  the  boat.  He  was 
a  typical  American  of  the  western  type  who  had  lived 
in  South  Africa  for  years.  Every  year  he  made  a  trip 
to  the  United  States  and  brought  back  blooded  stock 
of  various  kinds.  He  was  the  slap-dash,  breezy  kind  of 
big-hearted  soul  and  soon  became  chummy  with  us. 
Owing  to  the  fact  that  he  was  a  regular  tripper  on  this 
boat,  he  was  able  to  share  accommodations  with  one  of 
the  officers. 

It  soon  became  his  custom  to  visit  us.  He  would  sing 
out,  "Look  out  below!"  and  then  would  creep  down  the 
shaky  ladder  which  was  the  only  means  of  entry  to  our 
place  of  misery.  Always  he  brought  a  bottle,  and  the 
excellent  "hootch,"  as  he  called  it,  did  much  to  make  our 
lives  bearable.  He  was  a  good  story-teller  and  would 
always  introduce  a  preposterous  yarn  with  the  preface, 
"Now  this  is  true!"  We  gave  him  quite  a  run  for  his 
money  when  it  came  to  yarning,  as  both  of  us  had  been 
about  a  bit,  Sugden  in  the  north  and  I  in  the  south  of 
the  world. 

The  first  break  in  the  monotony  of  this  dreadful  voy- 
age came  when  we  reached  St.  Lucia,  in  the  British  West 
Indies.    This  is  a  gorgeous  bit  of  the  tropics  set  in  an 

220 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

opal  sea,  with  cloud-covered  mountain-tops  that  seem  to 
rake  the  sky. 

When  the  ship  tied  up  in  the  roadstead,  Sugden  and 
I  felt  that  we  were  due  to  go  on  the  loose  a  bit  and  went 
ashore  with  the  express  purpose  of  forgetting  our 
troubles.  We  certainly  succeeded  in  doing  so,  but  ended 
by  jumping  out  of  the  frying  pan  into  the  fire.  Several 
of  the  ship's  officers  went  with  us,  as  they  felt  there  were 
events  at  hand  which  they  must  not  miss.  Our  "party" 
started  at  the  first  hotel  we  entered.  This,  it  seems, 
was  exclusively  for  the  colored  section  of  the  popula- 
tion, for  the  place  fairly  reeked  with  blacks. 

After  we  had  had  several  drinks,  Sugden  turned  to 
me  and  asked : 

"Well,  what  are  we  here  for?    What  do  we  want?" 
"Excitement  I"  was  my  answer,  and  we  proceeded  to 
get  it. 

There  was  a  billiard-table  in  the  room,  and  this,  with 
its  torn  green  baize,  suggested  a  battle-ground.  We 
started  a  series  of  fights  between  the  blacks,  with  a 
prize  of  five  shillings  to  each  winner.  The  conditions 
of  the  battles  were  that  the  two  blacks  should  fight  on 
the  billiard-table,  the  loser  being  the  one  knocked  off. 
There  were  some  gallant  battles,  and  every  winner 
fairly  earned  his  crown. 

The  noise  of  the  cheering  drew  a  crowd,  and  soon  the 
large  bare  bar-room  was  jammed  with  black  boys  and 
a  sprinkling  of  whites.     We  whetted  our  interest  by 

221 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

betting  on  the  combatants,  and  I  was  doing  quite  nicely 
when  the  police  broke  in  and  stopped  the  fun. 

There  was  a  squad  of  these  funny  black  policemen, 
led  by  what  I  took  to  be  a  sergeant.  They  carried 
authority,  and  the  blacks  seemed  to  regard  them  with  a 
great  deal  of  respect. 

The  sergeant  wanted  to  know  what  I  was  doing.  I 
told  him  that  I  was  conducting  a  boxing  tournament  for 
the  benefit  of  something  or  other.  He  asked  if  I  had 
"official  permission,"  and  I  admitted  that  I  had  over- 
looked this  formality. 

"Then  you  are  inciting  riot  and  rebellion,"  he  said  in 
his  clipped  English.  "I  arrest  you  in  the  name  of  the 
King!" 

At  this,  Sugden  commenced  to  laugh.  This  was  a 
great  mistake,  since  the  black  sergeant  seemed  to  think 
that  we  were  scoffing  at  the  king.  Without  more  ado, 
he  invited  us  to  accompany  him  to  the  court. 

"This,  my  dear  sirs,"  he  said  severely,  "is  a  very  seri- 
ous matter.  It  is  not  allowed  to  stir  up  strife  in  His 
Majesty's  colonies." 

The  court  was  in  an  old-style  Spanish  house,  and  the 
room  was  vacant  except  for  buzzing  flies.  These  zoomed 
like  infant  meteors  through  the  narrow  streaks  of  sun- 
light from  the  long  windows.  The  benches  were  worn 
and  comfortable,  and  I  remember  dropping  off  to  sleep 
with  the  thought  that  even  these  flies  had  more  luck 
than  we  did,  since  they  had  sunlight  and  fresh  air,  while 
our  home  was  that  dreadful  steerage  hole. 

222 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

I  was  awakened  by  Sugden's  elbow.  There  on  the 
high  bench  sat  a  thin  old  gentleman  all  in  white.  He 
had  a  thin  hooked  nose  much  like  an  eagle's  beak,  and 
his  eyes  were  of  the  well-known  gimlet  type.  As  I 
took  him  in,  the  sergeant  was  reciting  the  charge  against 
us. 

"These  are  desperate  men,"  I  heard  him  say,  "from 
the  ship  now  in  the  harbor.  They  were  in  the  St.  Lucia 
Hotel  and  were — " 

"Yes!  Yes!"  interrupted  the  thin  magistrate  in  a 
voice  as  sharp  as  his  nose.  "But  what  is  the  charge? 
What  have  they  done?  Never  mind  the  oration;  get  to 
the  charge!" 

By  this  time  I  was  wide  awake.  I  suddenly  came 
to  a  full  realization  that  I  was  one  of  those  "desperate 
men"  and  found  myself  deeply  interested. 

"They  were  inciting  riot  and  rebellion,"  the  sergeant 
went  on,  undaunted  by  the  magistrate's  impatience. 
"A  boy  ran  to  the  police-station  and  said  murders  were 
being  done  at  the  hotel.  I  called  out  all  the  police  and 
went  there  as  fast  as  we  could  run.  Inside  the  billiard- 
room  were  hundreds  of  whites  and  blacks,  all  shouting 
with  their  desire  for  blood.  On  the  billiard-table  were 
two  black  men  trying  to  kill  one  another.  As  I  watched, 
one  struck  the  other.  He  fell  from  the  table  and  the 
crowd  cheered. 

"Then  this  man,"  he  went  on,  pointing  at  me,  "hands 
money  to  the  man  on  the  table  and  says,  'You  win!' 
After  this  he  takes  money  from  the  other  white  man" 

223 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

— pointing  at  Sugden — "and  tells  him  that  he  is  rotten 
at  picking  fighters." 

"What  next?  What  next?"  the  magistrate  snapped. 
"Then  the  first  man  demands  that  more  men  come 
and  fight,"  continued  the  sergeant,  "and  there  was  a  rush 
by  the  blacks  to  see  who  could  get  on  the  table.  Then  I 
brought  my  men  in  and  arrested  them  both.  Entirely 
unashamed  at  being  arrested,  this  man" — again  indi- 
cating Sugden — "laughs  out  loud  when  I  say  the  name 
of  the  king!" 

It  seemed  that  we  were  guilty  of  disturbing  the  peace 
and  quiet  of  His  Majesty's  island  of  St.  Lucia  and 
were  very  reprehensible  characters.  The  lean  magis- 
trate regarded  us  with  severe  eye,  and  I  am  not  sur- 
prised that  he  looked  at  us  with  suspicion.  The  voyage 
had  not  improved  our  looks  much  and  we  had  come 
ashore  in  much-worn  "ducks."  In  fact,  we  must  have 
looked  like  a  couple  of  beach-combers. 

"You  have  heard  the  charge?"  he  snapped  at  us. 
"Guilty  or  not  guilty?" 

We  were  as  guilty  as  could  be,  of  course.  Therefore 
we  answered  in  one  voice: 

"Not  guilty!" 

The  magistrate  raised  his  eyebrows  at  our  effrontery 
and  then  cleared  his  throat  again. 

"Then  you  '11  have  to  stand  trial,"  he  said.  "I  shall 
admit  you  to  bail.    Five  pounds  each!" 

We  promptly  produced  the  bail,  and  I  think  the  "thin 
dash  of  vinegar,"  as  Sugden  christened  him,  was  sur- 

224 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

prised  that  we  had  it.  Certainly  we  did  not  look  as 
though  we  had  a  shilling  between  us.  After  our  pedi- 
grees were  taken,  we  were  informed  that  we  would  be 
tried  at  "ten  o'clock  next  Thursday  morning." 

Outside  the  court-room  we  found  one  of  the  ship's 
officers  in  a  state  of  frenzy.  It  seems  that  he  had  been 
sent  to  get  us,  as  the  ship  ought  to  have  sailed  several 
hours  before. 

"She  's  been  blowing  and  blowing  and  blowing  for 
you!"  he  informed  us  in  an  aggrieved  tone.  "The  old 
man  is  fair  beside  himself  with  rage." 

"Oh,  that 's  what  all  the  noise  is  about,  "Sugden  in- 
nocently remarked. 

Then  he  suggested  that  we  take  our  time  and  stop  at 
several  places.  He  argued  that  so  long  as  we  kept  the 
officer  with  us  the  captain  would  not  dare  to  sail.  But 
I  vetoed  this  proposition,  feeling  that  we  had  already 
run  afoul  of  "His  Majesty  the  King"  and  not  caring 
to  take  another  chance. 


225 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Obstinate  stowaways — Free  Town  and  a  fight — Bay  rum  as  a  beverage — 
Sugden  lets  off  smoke-bombs — Cape  Town,  a  party,  and  some  Anzacs 
— Oom  Tuys  advises  haste — Through  South  Africa — Americans  and 
Boers  in  Ermelo — Hurried  visit  to  Swaziland  for  information — 
Mystery  over  the  coronation — Royal  gin  for  Labotsibeni — Debeseembie 
drinks  and  talks. 

WE  were  certainly  unpopular  with  the  skipper 
when  we  got  back  on  board.  The  officers  who 
had  attended  our  fistic  tournament  had  returned  slightly 
the  worse  for  wear,  and,  of  course,  their  condition  was 
laid  at  our  door.  In  fact,  we  retired  to  our  pallets  on 
the  poop-deck  feeling  that  we  had  not  one  friend  on  the 
ship,  outside  of  the  gunner,  who  was  heavily  subsidized. 
It  was  his  job  to  feed  us,  and  we  tipped  him  liberally 
to  get  us  the  best  there  was.  He  earned  his  money, 
however. 

At  dawn  the  next  morning  there  was  a  fine  explosion 
— the  captain  fairly  blew  up.  The  chief  officer  had  dis- 
covered two  stowaways,  and  we  were  wakened  by  his 
marching  them  up  to  the  captain's  cabin.  It  seems  it 
was  the  duty  of  the  commanding  officer  of  the  ship  to 
return  these  stowaways  to  the  port  where  they  slipped 
on  board,  and  the  rules  made  him  responsible  for  their 
cost  until  he  did  so.  This  annoyed  our  worthy  captain 
exceedingly  and  his  language  was  more  sultry  than 
the  weather,  and  that  is  saying  a  great  deal.    In  his  tor- 

226 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

rent  of  profanity  the  skipper  included  Dr.  Sugden  and 
myself,  for  it  seems  that  he  held  us  responsible  for  the 
stowaways  getting  aboard  the  ship. 

While  he  reheved  himself  of  all  that  bad  language, 
the  two  stowaways,  both  negroes,  stood  silent,  although 
there  was  a  baleful  gleam  in  their  eyes.  They  were 
finally  told  off  to  do  some  work,  but  flatly  refused  to  lift 
a  finger.  Then  food  was  denied  them  until  they  did 
work,  and  the  matter  reached  a  deadlock.  The  captain 
finally  decided  to  put  into  Free  Town,  in  the  Barbadoes, 
and  turn  them  over  to  the  authorities  there  after  making 
arrangements  for  their  return  to  St.  Lucia. 

When  the  ship  reached  Free  Town  the  captain  gave 
strict  orders  that  no  one  should  be  allowed  ashore, 
adding,  "particularly  those  two  doctors!"  We  did  not 
like  this,  as  Free  Town  is  a  pleasant  place  and  we  could 
have  found  relaxation  there  that  would  have  broken 
the  tedium  of  the  voyage.  We  needed  the  break,  too, 
for  the  captain  had  ordered  that  we  should  not  be  al- 
lowed to  buy  any  more  liquor  after  the  events  at  St. 
Lucia. 

However,  we  had  commissioned  the  gunner  to  see 
what  he  could  do  for  us  and  he  had  gone  ashore  with 
"the  old  man."  In  a  little  while  a  busy  motor-launch, 
with  the  Union  Jack  flying  free,  came  chugging  along- 
side with  our  worthy  captain  and  six  of  the  Free  Town 
police. 

They  tumbled  on  board  and  announced  to  the  stow- 
aways that  they  were  under  arrest. 

227 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"We  are,  are  we?"  these  worthies  asked.  "Well  then, 
come  and  get  us!" 

They  tore  off  their  coats  and  shirts  and  waited  for 
the  attack.  The  police  made  no  move,  and  I  did  not 
blame  them.  These  two  outcasts  were  the  finest  speci- 
mens of  "fighting  niggers"  I  have  ever  seen.  Their  tor- 
sos were  ribbed  with  muscle  and  they  looked  fit  to  fight 
for  their  lives.  What  was  more,  they  seemed  anxious 
to  begin! 

The  police  shuffled  their  feet,  and  I  saw  that  they  were 
afraid  to  tackle  them.  The  stowaways  saw  it,  too,  and 
became  cocky.  They  turned  on  the  captain  and  officers 
of  the  ship  and  let  loose  a  flood  of  damaging  language 
quite  as  strong  as  their  splendid  bodies.  Expurgated, 
it  ran  something  like  this: 

"You  white  folks  think  *cause  you  Ve  got  some  gol' 
braid  on  yer  coats  that  yu'  kin  run  over  us!  Come  on 
an'  get  us!  If  yu'  wanter  arrest  us,  come  an'  do  it! 
Yu'  aint  got  th'  nerv^e!  Yu  're  afraid,  that 's  wot  yu' 
are!    Come  on  an'  fight,  white  men,  come  on!" 

Not  one  of  the  officers  or  police  moved.  The  stow- 
aways were  right ;  they  were  afraid.  Then  Sugden  and 
I  broke  the  tension  by  cheering  the  stowaways.  Like 
us,  they  were  the  under  dogs  and  we  were  for  them. 
We  cheered  and  applauded  their  defiance,  and  this 
proved  too  much  for  the  forces  of  law  and  order. 

There  was  a  wild  rush,  and  after  a  few  sturdy  blows 
the  stowaways  were  overwhelmed  by  sheer  force  of 
numbers.    When  the  flailing  arms  stopped,  they  were 

228 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

flat  on  the  deck  with  about  six  men  sitting  on  each. 
The  irons  were  brought  and  clapped  on  them,  and  the 
last  we  saw  of  them  was  when  they  were  hustled  on 
board  the  launch. 

While  this  party  was  going  on  the  gunner  had  been 
busy  on  our  behalf.  He  had  been  unable  to  sneak  away 
from  the  captain's  gig  when  ashore,  but  made  up  for  it 
by  doing  business  with  the  bumboat  men  who  came 
alongside.  From  one  of  these  he  bought  two  cases  of 
bay  rum,  paying  twenty  cents  a  quart  for  it.  This  he 
smuggled  down  into  our  steerage  and  told  us  about  it 
as  soon  as  the  smoke  of  battle  had  cleared  away. 

Now  this  bay  rum  is  not  meant  for  drinking,  although 
the  blacks  of  that  part  of  the  world  consume  great 
quantities  of  it.  I  have  heard  that  it  makes  them  wild, 
and  I  am  not  surprised.  It  did  worse  than  that  to 
Sugden  and  me. 

We  started  drinking  it  as  soon  as  we  could,  and 
before  long  we  reached  the  semi-conscious  state  that 
made  life  bearable.  From  this  we  went  into  the  second 
stage — ^that  of  hallucinations.  We  went  practically 
crazy.  Sugden  insisted  that  he  was  a  red  squirrel  and 
I  believed  that  I  was  a  wild  cat.  We  became  violent  and 
were  locked  in  the  steerage.  However,  they  did  not  take 
our  bay  rum  away. 

Now  the  captain  never  visited  our  quarters,  so  he 
did  not  know  of  our  plight  until  the  end  of  the  second 
day.  Then  he  ordered  that  we  be  released.  No  sooner 
was  the  hatch  taken  off  than  Sugden  tore  up  the  ladder, 

229 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

crying  out  that  "the  wild  cat"  was  after  him.  I  was! 
Believing  his  assertion  that  he  was  a  red  squirrel,  I 
chased  him  all  over  the  boat,  intent  on  killing  him. 

We  dashed  through  the  officers'  quarters,  the  captain's 
cabin,  across  the  decks,  up  on  the  bridge  and  down  again, 
and  even  got  into  the  engine-room  in  our  mad  chase. 
Every  one  on  the  ship  followed  us,  roaring  with  laugh- 
ter. It  was  the  funniest  thing  they  had  ever  seen. 
Finally  they  captured  us  and  brought  us  back  to  earth 
with  buckets  of  sea-water. 

The  captain  was  so  amused  that  he  forgave  our  pre- 
vious sins  and  became  our  friend.  He  confiscated  the 
balance  of  the  bay  rum  and  put  us  on  an  allowance 
of  one  stiff  drink  of  whiskey  each  evening.  This  helped, 
but  it  was  not  very  much  under  the  circumstances. 

The  next  afternoon  Sugden  made  a  hit  with  the  cap- 
tain. The  World  War  was  not  long  over  and  the  ship 
had  a  number  of  smoke-bombs  which  were  supposed  to 
be  used  in  foiling  U-boats.  The  gunner  was  in  charge 
of  them.  Since  they  were  no  longer  needed,  the  captain 
gave  orders  that  they  be  thrown  overboard. 

The  gunner,  however,  proved  inexpert.  He  lighted 
several,  and  then  dropped  them  over  the  stern  so  quickly 
that  the  fuse  was  extinguished  without  the  bomb  explod- 
ing. Sugden  watched  these  manoeuvers  with  extreme 
disgust.  At  each  failure  his  remarks  became  more  in- 
sulting. Finally  he  could  stand  it  no  longer — he  had 
not  yet  fully  recovered  from  the  bay  rum — and  stag- 
gered up  to  the  gunner. 

230 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"You  're  a  fine  gunner,"  he  snorted.  "Who  ever 
heard  of  a  gunner  who  could  n't  make  a  smoke !  Stand 
back  and  let  an  expert  let  'em  off!" 

I  was  deathly  afraid  that  he  might  have  an  accident, 
that  one  of  the  bombs  would  explode  and  kill  him. 
The  gunner  had  the  same  idea  and  hurriedly  withdrew. 
The  captain  called  to  Sugden,  but  he  paid  no  attention. 
He  lighted  the  first  bomb,  held  it  for  an  interminable 
time,  and  dropped  it  over.  It  "boomed"  as  it  struck 
the  water  and  threw  out  the  smoke-screen  in  most  ap- 
proved navy  fashion.  We  all  cheered,  partly  from  re- 
lief that  there  had  been  no  accident.  Then  Sugden  let 
off  all  the  rest  of  the  bombs  without  a  failure. 

"Well,  you  're  a  little  bit  of  all  right,  after  all,"  the 
captain  said.  "Come  down  to  my  cabin  and  I  '11  give 
you  a  real  drink!" 

From  then  on  we  had  a  pleasant  trip.  Our  captain 
let  bygones  be  bygones  and  we  enjoyed  the  few  remain- 
ing days  enough  to  partly  make  up  for  the  misery  that 
had  preceded  them. 

Crespinell  and  Rossman  had  arrived  in  Cape  Town 
when  we  reached  there,  and  came  out  in  a  motor-boat  to 
meet  us.  We  introduced  them  to  our  new  friend,  the 
captain,  and  he  gave  them  a  brief  resume  of  our  activities 
during  the  thirty-odd  days  of  the  voyage.  He  gave  us 
credit  for  being  two  of  the  "rarest  specimens"  he  had 
ever  encountered. 

"The  next  time  I  ship  two  such  wild  men  as  these," 
he  said,  "I  '11  move  into  the  forecastle  and  give  'em  my 

231 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

cabin!  What 's  more,  from  now  on  I  'm  going  to  limit 
myself  to  one  doctor  a  trip,  and  he  won't  be  a  Boer, 
either.  These  two  devils  did  everything  from  start  a 
menagerie  on  one  case  of  bay  rum  to  instigate  a  mutiny 
when  we  had  some  fighting  stowaways  on  board." 

Then  he  gave  a  romantic  and  none  too  flattering  ac- 
count of  how  we  had  been  arrested  in  St.  Lucia,  and 
ended  by  informing  my  men  that  we  were  "fugitives 
from  justice."  This  had  not  occurred  to  me;  perhaps  it 
is  so  and  I  shall  find  the  funny  black  policeman  waiting 
for  me  the  next  time  I  visit  the  island. 

We  were  glad  to  get  ashore.  It  is  one  thing  to  race 
across  the  Atlantic  in  five  days  on  a  floating  palace  and 
quite  another  and  none- too-pleasant  experience  to  spend 
more  than  a  month  on  a  freighter  in  the  warmer  lati- 
tudes. The  soHd  earth  welcomed  our  feet  and  we  found 
Cape  Town  very  gay. 

After  getting  settled  at  the  hotel,  we  started  out  to 
enjoy  ourselves.  Of  course  we  chartered  a  motor,  and 
our  trail  could  easily  be  followed  by  the  familiar  fumes 
of  gasoline  and  alcohol.  The  town  was  full  of  "An- 
zacs,"  Austrahan  and  New  Zealand  soldiers,  returning 
from  the  war.  They  were  great  big  reckless  devils, 
glad  to  be  going  home  and  glorying  in  the  fact  that  they 
had  won  the  war.  This  led  to  an  argument  and  to  my 
taking  a  short  and  sad  cruise  in  the  "Mayflower,"  this 
being  the  highflown  name  of  a  typical  Cape  Town  hack. 

In  one  of  the  many  places  we  visited  during  the  course 
of  our  rambles,  we  ran  into  a  number  of  "Aussies"  cele- 

232 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

brating  the  downfall  of  the  Boche.  They  immediately 
noted  Dr.  Sugden's  sombrero  and  greeted  him  as  a 
"Yank."  This  was  all  right,  but  soon  they  added  a 
famihar  remark,  "The  Yanks  won  the  war;  oh  yes, 
they  did!"  and  Sugden  became  indignant.  The  usual 
argument  ensued.  Words  ceased  when  Sugden 
slammed  his  hat  on  the  ground  and  offered  to  lick  them 
all.  A  second  later  we  were  in  the  center  of  a  fine  melee, 
which  was  ended  by  the  military  police  breaking  in. 

Sugden  was  badly  used  up  and  some  of  the  rest  of 
us  were  severely  bruised.  The  nearest  vehicle  was  the 
"Mayflower,"  so  we  piled  the  "fighting  Yank"  into  it 
and  took  him  back  to  the  hotel.  He  had  been  badly 
damaged,  so  that  it  was  a  week  before  we  were  able  to 
travel. 

In  the  meantime  Oom  Tuys  had  sent  me  several 
telegrams  in  which  he  urged  me  to  hurry.  In  one  there 
was  the  phrase,  "Tzaneen  making  trouble;  maybe  war," 
and  this  sounded  as  if  we  were  in  for  an  interesting 
time  when  we  reached  Swaziland.  I  did  not  understand 
how  she  could  do  anything  unless  she  tried  to  take  the 
throne  for  Sebuza  by  force,  but  the  situation  looked 
as  though  there  was  some  excitement  ahead. 

Sugden  was  still  recuperating  from  his  battle  with 
the  Australians  and  expected  to  remain  in  bed  for  a 
few  days  more  when  this  wire  reached  me.  I  showed 
it  to  him  and  he  immediately  became  excited. 

"Come  on,  let's  go"  he  said,  getting  out  of  bed. 

233 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"We  're  wasting  time  here.  Let 's  get  into  Swaziland 
and  see  what 's  doing." 

We  left  next  day  for  the  Transvaal.  It  is  a  long 
journey,  but  to  one  who  has  not  made  it  before  there 
is  much  of  interest. 

After  leaving  the  coast  there  come  the  beautiful 
mountain  passes  of  the  Cape  Colony.  Then  the  train 
drops  to  the  Karoo  Desert,  with  its  endless  brown 
stretches  broken  only  by  dry  rivers,  near  which  can  be 
seen  great  herds  of  sheep.  Kimberley,  with  its  bar- 
renness and  huge  dumps  of  dark,  diamond-washed  soil 
comes  next,  and  finally  the  Great  Fish  River  is  crossed 
to  the  grassy  plains  of  the  Orange  Free  State.  Across 
these  plains  the  train  runs  for  hundreds  of  miles,  and 
then  comes  the  Vaal  River,  after  which  the  veldt  of  the 
Transvaal  is  reached.  After  a  while  the  huge  smoke- 
stacks and  great  white  ore-dumps  of  Johannesburg 
loom,  and  the  journey  is  practically  ended. 

My  companions  were  keen  to  hear  all  about  this  coun- 
try, so  new  to  them,  and  I  was  kept  busy  running  from 
side  to  side  of  the  car  supplying  their  thirst  for  informa- 
tion. Dr.  Sugden,  I  found,  was  well  up  on  the  history 
of  the  country  and  would  often  supply  a  missing  date 
when  I  related  the  romantic  story  of  the  Boer  and 
British  conquest  of  South  Africa. 

We  spent  several  days  in  Johannesburg,  and  my  com- 
panions were  delighted  with  it.  They  frequently  com- 
mented on  its  being  like  an  up-to-date  American  city, 
as  they  found  practically  everything  there  that  they 

234 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

would  expect  in  the  United  States.  In  fact,  Sugden 
was  loud  in  his  praises  of  the  telephone  service,  which 
he  insisted  was  "almost  as  good  as  that  at  home."  The 
city  has  developed  extensively  during  the  last  twenty 
years  and  now  has  buildings,  hotels,  and  streets  of  the 
most  modern  type.  The  great  contrast  lies  in  the  char- 
acter of  the  street  traffic.  There  are  hundreds  of  motors 
of  all  kinds,  but  there  are  also  innumerable  rickshaws 
drawn  by  Zulus,  thousands  of  kaffirs,  and  not  a  few 
horse-cabs. 

Then,  of  course,  the  huge  mine-dumps  right  in  the 
heart  of  the  city  struck  my  companions  as  extraordi- 
nary, but  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  city  grew  up 
after  the  mines  were  sunk.  There  are  miles  and  miles  of 
smoke-stacks,  and  the  crushing  of  the  ore  mills  can  al- 
ways be  heard.  My  party  was  much  impressed  by 
Parktown,  the  millionaires'  suburb  to  the  north  of  the 
city.  Here  there  are  libraries,  a  zoological  garden,  and 
all  things  essential  to  a  thoroughly  equipped  and  pros- 
perous city.  I  have  many  friends  in  Johannesburg  and 
my  companions  had  a  pleasant  time  visiting  them  with 
me. 

They  had  their  first  view  of  a  real  Boer  village  when 
we  landed  in  Ermelo  a  few  days  later.  The  morning 
we  reached  there  we  saw  several  score  of  Cape  carts 
loaded  with  farmers  and  their  wives  coming  to  town 
to  shop.  Then  there  were  several  of  those  great  canvas- 
topped  freight  wagons,  drawn  by  seven  or  eight  span 
of  wide-horned  oxen  and  driven  by  a  number  of  kaffir 

235 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

boys.  These  walk  alongside  with  their  long  goads,  and 
the  entire  progress  of  the  caravan  is  one  long  shout. 
With  the  yelling  of  the  kaffirs,  the  creaking  of  the  great 
wagon,  and  the  frequent  lowing  of  the  oxen,  the  noise 
of  such  an  outfit  is  as  striking  as  is  its  picturesque 
appearance. 

Sugden  was  intensely  interested  in  these  great  freight 
trains,  and  reminded  me  of  their  similarity  to  those 
which  made  the  overland  trail  in  the  States  during  the 
days  of  the  forty-niners.  The  heavy-set  men  riding 
beside  the  wagons  particularly  impressed  him. 

"Why,  they  are  the  same  men  that  settled  the  West 
of  my  country,"  he  exclaimed.  "Their  steady  eyes  and 
great  beards  remind  me  of  the  days  of  Crockett  and 
Boone.  Their  rifles,  ready  for  instant  use,  carry  out 
the  picture.  Fred  Remington  would  have  been  crazy 
over  these  ox-teams  I" 

I  noted  that  the  interest  was  not  all  on  our  side; 
these  farmer  Boers  were  quite  as  curious  about  us  as 
we  were  about  them.  They  called  each  other's  attention 
to  our  strange  clothes,  and  not  a  few  looked  with  envy 
at  Dr.  Sugden's  sombrero.  He  was  right  about  these 
men.  They  are  the  true  pioneer  breed,  the  men  who 
found  and  make  empires! 

Oom  Tuys  was  not  in  Ermelo.  One  of  his  boys  was 
waiting  for  me,  however,  with  a  message  that  prepara- 
tions were  being  made  for  the  coronation  at  Lebombo, 
but  that  Labotsibeni  had  made  no  sign  as  yet.     He 

236 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

assured  me  that  I  need  not  worry  and  that  he  would 
join  me  at  Ermelo  in  a  day  or  two. 

I  commenced  assembling  our  expedition,  and  while  I 
was  so  occupied  my  companions  visited  about  and  made 
many  friends  among  the  Boers.  None  of  them  had  ever 
seen  any  Americans,  although  they  had  heard  much 
of  the  United  States,  and  they  were  greatly  interested 
in  everything  the  latter  said  and  did.  In  fact,  word 
reached  the  outlying  districts  that  some  Americans 
were  in  Ermelo  and  several  hundred  Boers  trekked  in  to 
see  them.  Of  course  my  companions  could  not  talk 
Dutch  and  it  was  seldom  that  an  interpreter  could  be 
found.  It  was  no  unusual  thing  for  several  great, 
bearded  Boers  to  shake  hands  with  them  and  say, 
"Hello,  America !"  this  being  the  extent  of  their  English. 
Sometimes  conversations  would  take  place  in  very 
broken  English,  the  Boers  always  wishing  to  get  news 
from  the  outer  world. 

I  remember  one  such  talk.  The  Boer  was  a  sort  of 
preacher  and  was  fairly  well  read.  He  spoke  English 
of  a  kind — ^that  is,  it  was  understandable.  He  caught 
Sugden  and  me  when  we  were  returning  from  looking 
over  some  oxen  and  asked  us  a  question  that  had  been 
perplexing  him.  I  translate  his  words  into  ordinary 
language,  as  otherwise  they  would  be  difficult  to  under- 
stand. 

"The  war  is  over,  yes  ?"  he  asked.  "And  America  sent 
more  than  two  million  men  and  spent  hundreds  of  mil- 
lions of  pounds.    England,  France,  and  the  others  will 

237 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

take  much  from  Germany  and  Austria,  but  America 
says  she  will  take  nothing.    Is  this  so?" 

"Yes,  that 's  right,"  Sugden  answered. 

"Why  is  America  so  foolish?"  he  asked  in  a  puzzled 
way.  "She  loses  thousands  of  men  and  millions  of 
money,  and  yet  wants  nothing  from  Germany!  Why 
did  she  go  into  the  war?" 

This  question  was  not  asked  so  often  in  those  days, 
and  I  was  curious  to  hear  Sugden's  reply. 

"America  went  into  the  war  to  save  herself,"  the  doc- 
tor answered  positively.  "If  Germany  had  won,  she 
would  have  had  to  fight  her  alone,  so  she  went  in  to 
avoid  such  a  war." 

This  satisfied  the  greybeard,  but  he  went  off  mutter- 
ing, "America  wants  nothing!  America  wants  nothing! 
Such  a  foolishness!" 

Naturally,  he  could  not  understand  this.  Every  time 
the  Boers  made  war  they  gained  territory,  as  did  the 
British,  and  he  judged  from  his  own  experience.  I  was 
glad  that  Sugden  had  stated  the  facts,  instead  of  the  old 
cant  about  America  fighting  to  "save  civilization."  I 
know  the  old  Boer  would  not  have  understood  that  and 
would  have  regarded  it  as  what  Sugden  called  "bunk." 

I  had  about  finished  assembling  our  outfit  when  Tuys 
came.  He  brought  word  that  the  coronation  was  in- 
definitely postponed,  so  we  settled  down  to  wait  a  bit 
before  starting  for  the  wilds  of  Swaziland.  As  usual, 
the  unexpected  happened.     One  of  Tuys's  men  came 

238 


I 
ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

to  Ermelo  in  hot  haste,  bearing  word  that  the  coronation 
was  to  take  place  as  soon  as  possible. 

This  was  disconcerting  information,  and  Tuys  and 
I  held  a  council  of  war. 

"I  don't  believe  that  they  intend  having  the  coro- 
nation right  away,"  he  said.  "I  don't  think  that  Sebuza 
has  been  properly  consecrated  yet." 

"Well,  you  know  what  we  've  just  heard,"  I  said. 
"I  wish  we  could  get  some  first-hand  information  about 
it.    I  'd  hate  to  lose  out  after  all  the  trouble  I  've  taken." 

"Owen,  lad,  there  's  just  one  thing  to  do — let  us 
make  a  quick  trip  to  Zombode  and  find  out  about  it," 
my  uncle  advised. 

We  talked  the  matter  over  for  some  time,  and  that 
seemed  to  be  the  only  solution.  There  were  still  a  few 
details  of  our  expedition  to  be  attended  to,  but  I  turned 
these  over  to  Sugden  and  made  up  my  mind  to  leave 
next  morning. 

Dawn  saw  Oom  Tuys  and  me  on  the  trail.  We  rode 
fast  ponies  and  went  unattended.  What  food  we  needed 
we  carried  in  saddle-bags,  and  the  most  weighty  part 
of  our  load  consisted  of  several  bottles  of  gin.  These, 
of  course,  were  a  necessity. 

The  trip  proved  uneventful.  The  weather  was  good 
and  we  were  able  to  sleep  out  comfortably.  We  skirted 
around  Mbabane,  since  it  would  not  do  for  Mr.  Com- 
missioner Dickson  to  know  that  Tuys  was  going  into 
Swaziland. 

When  we  reached  Zombode  we  found  Lomwazi  on 

239 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

guard  at  the  royal  kraal.  He  came  out  to  meet  us  and 
received  our  gift  of  gin  with  rather  poor  grace.  He 
seemed  uneasy  and  not  at  all  glad  to  see  us.  We  asked 
to  see  Queen  Labotsibeni. 

"Nkoos,  the  queen  is  not  well  and  cannot  see  you," 
he  answered,  lying  badly. 

"But  she  sent  for  me,"  Tuys  said,  catching  his  eye 
and  meeting  lie  with  lie.  With  the  assured  air  of  the 
white  man,  he  was  able  to  tell  his  lie  convincingly. 

We  knew  that  we  would  be  caught  if  we  allowed 
Lomwazi  to  return  to  the  old  queen  alone,  so  we  dogged 
his  footsteps  and  arrived  at  her  hut  with  him.  Tuys 
fairly  pushed  in  ahead  of  Lomwazi,  and  a  moment  later 
was  talking  to  Labotsibeni. 

"Nkosikaas,  mother  of  Buno  the  Great,"  he  said,  "I, 
the  White  King  of  Swaziland,  am  here  to  do  your  bid- 
ding. Your  son,  Lomwazi,  told  me  that  you  are  not 
well  and  I  have  brought  Mzaan  Bakoor,  the  great  doctor, 
to  cure  you." 

I  could  see  the  old  woman  seemed  very  feeble. 
She  nodded  approval  as  Tuys  finished  and  answered 
by  asking  for  gin.  Lomwazi  pulled  out  the  glass  stop- 
per and  a  moment  later  held  the  earthenware  cup  to 
his  mother's  lips.  She  gulped  and  choked,  then  repeated 
her  action,  and  finally  finished  the  drink,  gasping  for 
breath. 

We  sat  and  watched  and  saw  a  transformation.  As 
the  alcohol  went  down  we  saw  her  strength  return.  In 
a  few  minutes  she  was  the  same  old  queen  I  had  known 

240 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

before.  Lomwazi  squatted  behind  her  with  sullen  look. 
When  he  glanced  our  way  there  was  murder  in  his 
eyes,  and  I  did  not  Hke  it.  Tuys,  always  reckless  and 
utterly  fearless,  gave  him  glance  for  glance,  and  the 
black  man's  eyes  always  fell. 

"I  am  cured,  Nkoos,"  Labotsibeni  began  in  quite 
a  strong  voice.  "I  am  well.  The  'muti'  of  the 
white  man  cures  all  ills  of  the  body,  even  when  it  num- 
bers the  years  as  the  leaves  of  the  trees.  Why  have  you 
come  to  see  me?" 

"I  wish  to  know  when  you  plan  to  make  your  grand- 
son, Sebuza,  the  son  of  Buno,  king  of  Swaziland,"  Tuys 
answered  without  fencing.  He  thought  that  a  direct 
answer  might  get  the  truth. 

"When  all  is  ready  Sebuza  will  be  made  king,"  she 
answered  without  hesitation,  and  it  seemed  to  me  there 
was  the  ghost  of  a  smile  on  her  hps. 

Tuys  then  asked  her  how  soon  that  would  be,  but  she 
said  she  did  not  know.  This  time  I  was  sure  she  smiled. 
I  had  a  feeling  that  we  would  get  no  information  out  of 
her  and  that  Zombode  was  not  any  too  anxious  for  the 
coronation. 

Tuys  then  asked  for  Sebuza  and  wanted  to  know 
where  he  was.  The  blind  old  queen  let  Lomwazi  answer 
us,  and  the  wily  vizier  said  he  did  not  know,  but  that  he 
thought  the  crown  prince  was  in  the  mountams  being 
consecrated. 

According  to  the  ancient  customs,  before  the  new 
king  takes  office  he  must  go  through  a  lengthy  cere- 

241 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

monial  in  the  mountains.  This  usually  lasts  for  two 
months,  or  "two  moons,"  and  the  priests,  or  witch- 
doctors, are  in  charge  of  the  rites.  In  the  case  of  Sebuza 
the  sanctification  was  also  the  celebration  of  his  attain- 
ing manhood. 

After  Lomwazi's  evasive  reply — for  I  felt  that  he 
was  lying — Labotsibeni  began  to  ask  questions.  I  knew 
that  we  must  answer  them  in  detail  if  we  wished  to  get 
any  further  information,  so  we  did  so.  She  became 
quite  peevish  when  the  effect  of  the  gin  wore  off  and 
was  nothing  but  a  querulous  old  woman.  But  she  asked 
the  most  extraordinary  questions!  I  realized  more 
than  ever  that  she  had  brains,  for  she  went  from  one  end 
of  the  world  to  the  other.  Of  course  she  had  no  educa- 
tion as  we  know  it,  but  she  asked  about  the  Boers  and 
British  and  how  they  were  getting  along  together, 
"lying  in  the  same  bed,"  as  she  put  it. 

She  had  heard  that  all  the  white  men  were  at  war 
with  one  another,  and  she  asked  question  after  question 
about  the  world  conflict.  It  seems  that  aeroplanes  had 
flown  over  parts  of  Swaziland  during  the  war,  and  she 
was  curious  about  these.  They  had  been  described  to 
her  as  great  birds  carrying  men  and  guns,  and  she 
wanted  to  know  how  it  was  done. 

Tuys  and  I  kept  our  patience  and  answered  every- 
thing we  could,  always  trying  to  get  a  stray  bit  of 
information  concerning  Sebuza's  coronation.  She  had 
several  drinks  of  gin  during  the  talk,  which  ended  after 
about  three  hours  with  our  being  no  wiser  than  when 

242 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

we  came.  Once  or  twice  we  thought  the  news  was 
coming,  but  each  time  the  watchful  Lomwazi  stepped 
into  the  breach  and  turned  the  subject.  We  were  com- 
pletely baffled. 

Finally  we  gave  it  up.  As  we  made  our  farewell 
speech,  in  which  we  wished  the  old  queen  "long  hfe  and 
good  health,"  I  offered  her  the  "going-away  present." 
Then  ensued  an  incident  that  showed  how  keen  she  was 
in  spite  of  her  great  age  and  lack  of  sight. 

The  gin  bottle  was  an  unusual  shape;  that  is,  it  was 
long  and  tall,  instead  of  being  squat  and  square.  When 
I  handed  it  to  her  she  passed  her  hands  over  it  with 
rapidity  and  then  asked  what  it  was,  for  she  had  never 
had  a  bottle  like  it  before. 

"It  is  royal  gin,"  I  assured  her.  "It  is  gin  that  is 
made  only  for  kings  and  queens.  It  is  the  gin  that  the 
queen  of  the  English  drinks.  It  is  the  only  gin  worthy 
of  you,  Nkosikaas !" 

This  satisfied  her  and  she  accepted  our  farewell,  so 
we  went  back  to  our  horses.  Tuys  was  amused  at  the 
old  queen's  keenness  and  told  me  I  had  committed 
treason  by  making  the  Queen  of  England  drink  gin 
to  placate  a  Swazi  potentate.  Lomwazi  came  with  us 
to  do  the  honors,  though  really  he  wanted  to  make  sure 
we  did  not  talk  to  any  one  and  get  information.  He 
was  still  sullen  and  suspicious,  and  we  pointedly  did 
not  present  him  with  the  gin  he  hoped  for,  although  he 
saw  that  we  had  several  bottles  left. 

"It 's  no  use,  Owen,"  Tuys  said,  as  we  rode  down  the 

243 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

trail  to  the  Valley  of  Heaven.  "They  are  planning 
something,  and  I  fear  it  means  trouble  for  that  cub, 
Sebuza.  I  have  a  feeling  that  we  ought  to  get  our 
outfit  here  and  sit  tight  and  watch  events.  Something 
is  going  to  happen.  It  may  be  a  new  king  or  a  dead 
crown  prince.    I  can't  tell  which." 

That  night  we  camped  near  a  kraal  of  one  of  the 
minor  indunas  and  noted  that  there  was  less  cordiality 
than  usual.  Tuys  strolled  over  to  the  great  fire  and 
talked  for  some  time  with  the  warriors.  In  a  little 
while  he  came  back  quite  excited. 

"Debeseembie,  Lomwazi's  brother,  is  over  there,"  he 
said.  "He  is  inside  the  kraal,  but  some  of  his  men  let  out 
the  fact  that  he  was  there.  I  wonder  what  he  is  doing? 
Suppose  we  try  and  find  out." 

This  seemed  a  good  idea,  and  Tuys  went  about  it  in 
his  own  cunning  way.  He  strolled  over  to  the  fire  and 
told  one  of  the  warriors  that  he  had  a  bottle  of  gin  for 
Debeseembie,  but  that  he  would  only  deliver  it  to  him 
personally.  Then  he  came  back  to  where  I  was  stretched 
on  my  blankets. 

Now  a  Swazi,  like  all  other  kaffirs,  will  do  anything 
for  alcohol,  even  to  the  sacrifice  of  his  royal  dignity. 
Debeseembie  was  the  son  of  a  queen  and  the  brother  of 
the  late  King  Buno;  nevertheless,  he  was  standing 
respectfully  nearby  within  a  few  minutes. 

"Nkoos,  you  have  a  present  for  me?"  he  asked,  and 
I  could  see  his  eyes  flash  in  anticipation. 

"Yes,  if  you  will  sit  and  talk  a  while,"  I  told  him, 

2U 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

and  then  produced  a  bottle.  Tuys  poured  out  a  gener- 
ous drink  and  gave  it  to  him.  Debeseembie  choked  it 
down,  just  as  the  kaffirs  always  do,  and  then  gasped 
for  breath  for  a  moment. 

Then  Tuys  began  talking  about  many  things,  none 
of  them  with  much  bearing  on  the  information  we 
wanted.  In  a  little  while  Debeseembie  had  another 
drink.  He  is  the  most  sincere  of  all  the  royal  family 
and  I  have  always  found  him  to  be  very  trustworthy. 
He  is  not  a  good  liar  and  seems  to  know  it. 

Gradually  we  led  the  conversation  to  the  coming 
coronation  and  finally  asked  him  the  leading  question: 
How  soon  will  it  be?  He  was  not  angered  and  gave 
us  the  first  direct  intimation  of  the  trouble  we  had 
suspected. 

"My  brother,  Lomwazi,  doesn't  want  it  to  take 
place,"  he  said ;  "and  he  has  great  power  over  our  mother. 
He  frightens  her  by  telling  her  that  she  will  have  to  die 
when  Sebuza  is  crowned.  All  the  people  of  Swaziland 
want  to  have  a  king  and  are  tired  of  Labotsibeni  and 
Lomwazi,  and  Tzaneen  is  working  for  her  son's  corona- 
tion. No  one  can  tell  when  Sebuza  will  be  made  king. 
It  may  be  never!" 

That  was  what  we  wanted  to  know.  Debeseembie, 
always  at  the  old  queen's  elbow,  ought  to  know  what  he 
was  talking  about  and  we  felt  that  he  had  told  the  truth. 
A  few  moments  later  I  gave  him  our  last  bottle  of  gin 
and  he  stumbled  back  to  his  kraal. 

Next  morning  we  were  up  at  dawn,  striking  back  to 

245 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Ermelo  as  fast  as  we  could  go.  Again  we  skirted  Mba- 
bane, but  nevertheless  made  good  time.  Tuys  was 
very  thoughtful  during  most  of  the  trip,  and  I  cannot 
remember  that  he  had  anything  to  say  until  we  came  in 
sight  of  Ermelo. 

"Well,  it  looks  as  if  our  friends  in  Swaziland  need 
some  one  to  make  up  their  minds  for  them,"  he  said  in 
a  musing  way.  "However,  I  don't  want  to  have  to  do 
it!" 

I  glanced  at  the  cunning  old  man,  but  he  was  looking 
into  the  dust  ahead  and  did  not  amplify  his  remark. 
It  was  an  interesting  thought,  however,  and  it  did  offer 
one  way  out  of  our  difficulties. 


246 


CHAPTER  XV 

Outfitting  for  Swaziland— Our  cook  becomes  "Gunga  Din" — Lomwazi's 
messenger — OflF  for  Zombode — Rossman  goes  hunting — Too  much  rain — 
The  oxen  die  and  are  replaced  by  donkeys — Sneaking  liquor  throu^ 
Mbabane — Ezulweni  mosquitoes  rival  New  Jersey's — We  are  very  un- 
popular in  Zombode — Manaan's  damage  suit  and  settlement. 

DR.  SUGDEN  and  the  others  were  waiting  for 
me  at  the  house.  They  were  all  ready  to  start 
and  impatient  to  be  off.  The  novelty  of  Boer  life  in  Er- 
melo  had  worn  away  and  they  now  were  keen  to  be  out 
among  the  Swazis. 

"Let's  go!"  was  Sugden's  chant.  "Come  on,  let's 
start  1  All  the  things  are  packed,  the  wagon  's  set,  and 
the  oxen  are  eating  their  heads  off.    Come  on,  let 's  go  I" 

I  assured  him  that  we  would  be  off  as  soon  as  possible, 
and  added  that  he  would  find  plenty  of  hard  walking 
to  use  up  his  surplus  energy  once  we  started  trekking. 
Tuys  and  I,  as  the  old-timers  of  the  party,  made  a  thor- 
ough inspection  of  the  wagon  and  outfit.  We  had 
trekked  practically  all  over  the  Transvaal  and  Orange 
Free  State  at  various  times  and  our  equipment  was  all 
that  could  be  needed  for  the  job  in  hand. 

The  wagon  was  one  of  the  great  freight-carriers  used 
so  extensively  in  South  Africa.  It  was  along  the  lines 
of  the  old  American  "prairie  schooner,'*  except  that  it 
was  much  bigger  and  heavier  in  every  way.  It  was 
about  eighteen  feet  long  by  ten  wide  and  could  safely 

247 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

be  loaded  up  to  three  or  three  and  a  half  tons.  Its  wheels 
were  squat  and  heavy,  with  broad  tires  built  to  prevent 
their  cutting  into  soft  roadways  and  to  roll  over  the 
dust  of  dry  weather  without  sinking  into  it.  The  rear 
half  of  the  wagon  was  covered  with  a  top,  or  tent,  under 
which  a  permanent  bed  was  built.  This  bed  was  of  the 
primitive  plain-board  kind,  but  saved  us  from  having  to 
sleep  on  the  wet  earth  on  many  occasions.  When  we 
started  out  the  wagon  was  drawn  by  eleven  span,  or 
twenty-two  oxen.  Three  Swazi  boys  were  in  charge  of 
it  and  were  responsible  for  its  animals. 

Then,  chiefly  for  our  personal  convenience,  I  had 
pressed  the  wagonette  into  service,  and  this  was  drawn 
by  six  mules.  Sibijaan  and  Tuis  were  in  charge  of  this 
part  of  the  outfit. 

I  must  not  forget  our  cook.  He  was  a  most  important 
member  of  the  expedition  and  came  through  it  in  a  most 
remarkable  manner — always  on  the  job  and  always 
ready  to  work  a  little  harder.  He  was  an  Indian,  that 
is,  a  native  of  India  who  had  come  to  the  Transvaal  as 
servant  to  a  British  officer  during  the  World  War.  His 
right  name  became  lost  early  in  our  association.  It  was 
a  long,  three-barreled  sort  of  name,  quite  melodious,  but 
not  handy  for  trek  use.  When  I  was  inspecting  our 
equipment  I  asked  him  his  name  again,  and  he  calmly 
answered,  "Gunga  Din,  Sahib." 

"Since  when?  When  did  you  change  your  name?" 
I  asked,  surprised  that  he  had  relinquished  his  proud 
paternal  patronymic. 

248 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"Yesterday,  Sahib.  The  sahib  with  the  large  hat 
says  that  he  can't  remember  my  name  and  tells  me 
that  from  now  on  I  shall  be  known  as  'Gunga  Din.'  '* 

Investigation  showed  that  Sugden  became  fed  up  on 
the  long,  beautiful  name  of  our  cook  and  had  firmly 
given  him  one  that  was  easy  to  remember. 

"Gunga  Din's  easy  to  remember,"  he  explained, 
"Gunga  Din  and  Rudyard  Kipling  go  together,  and 
you  surely  can't  forget  them  both.  G.  Din  made  R.  K. 
famous,  and  it 's  a  cinch  to  remember  the  cook's  name 
that  way.  Anyhow,  we  'U  be  calling  him  'Din'  as  soon 
as  we  get  going!" 

And  he  was  right.  The  chef  with  a  name  like  a 
great  poet  became  "Din"  and  remained  "Din"  until 
we  returned  from  Swaziland. 

The  great  wagon  was  heavily  loaded  with  all  the 
dunnage  and  impedimenta  needed  for  our  expedition, 
among  which  were  gin  and  a  number  of  mysterious  cases 
I  had  personally  seen  packed  in  New  York.  My  com- 
panions did  not  know  what  was  in  them  until  late  in 
our  expedition,  but  when  they  found  that  I  had  nearly 
one  hundred  pounds  of  glorious  five-and-ten-cent-store 
jewelry  they  realized  that  I  knew  a  bit  about  the  kaffir 
character. 

Of  course  we  had  all  the  weapons  we  could  use.  The 
best  sporting  rifles  and  revolvers  were  part  of  the 
equipment,  though  I  hoped  that  we  should  not  have 
occasion  to  use  them  except  for  pot-hunting.    Things 

249 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

will  happen  in  Swaziland,  however,  and  Tuys  was  a 
great  believer  in  foresight. 

After  our  rigid  inspection  of  the  outfit  we  returned 
from  the  kraal  to  the  house,  where  the  whole  party  as- 
sembled for  dinner.  During  the  meal  a  discussion  arose 
as  to  whether  it  would  not  be  a  good  idea  to  start  imme- 
diately and  work  our  way  into  Swaziland  on  the  chance 
of  being  able  to  get  action.  Tuys  maintained  that  we 
ought  to  start  at  once  and  hinted  mysteriously  that  the 
coronation  might  be  arranged  whether  Labotsibeni 
liked  it  or  not.  Knowing  his  propensity  for  taking 
chances  and  his  liking  for  trouble,  I  hesitated  to  en- 
courage this  idea.  Sugden,  of  course,  wanted  action 
and  rather  welcomed  the  thought  of  trouble.  Crespi- 
nell  was  neutral,  taking  the  stand  that  anything  was 
better  than  "sticking  around  Ermelo,"  while  Rossman 
said  he  did  not  care  whether  he  took  pictures  of  peace 
or  war.    But  the  matter  was  taken  out  of  our  hands. 

At  about  dawn  next  morning  Sibijaan  came  hammer- 
ing on  the  door  of  my  room.  I  jumped  up  and  let 
him  in. 

"Mzaan  Bakoor,  there  is  a  messenger  outside  from 
Zombode,"  he  announced.  "He  came  in  the  night  and 
would  not  wait  any  longer.  He  says  he  must  see  you 
now." 

I  had  the  man  in.  He  was  one  of  the  old  "king's  mes- 
sengers," but  without  his  distinguishing  sign.  His 
lean,  hard  body  and  muscular  legs  would  have  singled 
him  out,  though.  ' 

250 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"Nkoos,  Lomwazi  sends  me  to  bring  you  a  message," 
he  said,  with  his  hands  outstretched  in  salute.  "He  says 
that  Sebuza  will  be  made  king  at  the  next  new  moon." 

Looking  back,  it  seems  to  me  that  we  must  have 
made  a  peculiar  tableau  there  in  the  bedroom  dimly 
lighted  by  the  coming  sunrise.  The  savage,  with  his 
great  shield,  knob-kerrie,  and  assegai,  and  the  white 
man  in  his  pajamas!  I  will  admit  that  the  white  man 
had  his  finger  on  the  trigger  of  a  little  44-caliber  bulldog 
revolver  during  the  first  part  of  this  interview.  One 
does  not  take  foolish  chances  in  South  Africa. 

I  asked  the  messenger  for  further  details  about  the 
coronation,  but  all  I  could  learn  was  that  Sebuza  had 
been  in  the  mountains  undergoing  sanctification  for  the 
last  six  weeks  and  would  return  to  Lebombo  before  the 
new  moon. 

Sibijaan  took  care  of  the  Swazi  and  saw  that  he  was 
fed  and  given  a  little  drink.  After  which  he  took  to  the 
trail  again,  and  I  saw  him  fade  into  the  distance  at  a 
dog-trot  just  about  the  time  we  were  finishing  breakfast. 

His  news  decided  the  argument  of  the  night  before. 
The  oxen  were  inspanned,  the  mules  also,  and  about 
noon  we  started  off  on  our  trek  for  Zombode.  The  ex- 
pedition had  been  the  talk  of  Ermelo  for  some  time,  and 
practically  every  white  man  and  most  of  the  kaffirs  were 
on  hand  to  cheer  and  give  us  a  rousing  send-off.  Many 
of  our  friends  walked  with  us  until  we  crossed  the  little 
bridge  and  were  lost  in  the  willow-groves  along  the  river 
trail. 

251 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

This  first  day  the  roads  were  excellent  and  we  made 
the  best  speed  of  any  day  of  the  trip.  Before  night  we 
had  gone  a  full  twenty  miles,  stopping  at  the  fine  farm 
of  an  old-fashioned  Boer.  Instead  of  camping  in  the 
open,  as  we  had  to  do  for  practically  all  the  rest  of  the 
expedition,  we  stopped  with  the  farmer.  I  did  this  be- 
cause I  wanted  my  American  associates  to  see  how  real 
Boers  live.  We  had  a  regular  Boer  supper,  consisting 
of  grilled  meats,  such  as  chops,  hearts,  liver,  kidneys, 
and  Boer  bacon ;  crushed  mealies,  rye  bread,  and  coffee. 
There  was  an  abundance  of  all  this  and  it  was  cooked 
to  the  queen's  taste.  The  twenty-mile  frek,  during 
which  we  walked  every  foot  of  the  way,  had  given  us 
wonderful  appetites  and  we  were  able  to  do  more  than 
justice  to  the  quantities  of  food  set  out. 

Following  supper  the  old  Boer  became  solemn,  as  is 
the  custom  after  the  evening  meal,  and  led  us  in  re- 
ligious services.  No  matter  how  poor  or  how  humble, 
the  true  Boer  never  forgets  his  "night  prayers."  This 
is  his  heritage  from  those  Huguenot  ancestors.  It  was 
impressive  to  see  my  American  companions  bow  their 
heads  silently  as  the  old  farmer  recited  his  devotions. 

Prayers  over,  we  went  to  the  "parlor,"  whose  chief 
ornaments  were  almost  priceless  rehcs  and  skins,  and 
staged  an  amateur  musicale.  There  was  a  good  piano 
and  we  had  our  ukelele.  What  more  could  be  desired? 
All  the  kaffirs  in  the  neighborhood  gathered  outside  and 
fairly  wept  for  joy.    It  was  a  splendid  concert,  con- 

252 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

sidering  the  talent,  and  made  a  great  hit  with  the  farmer 
and  his  wife. 

Next  morning  we  were  inspanned  and  on  our  way 
by  dawn.  It  was  raining,  and  this  made  it  look  like  bad 
going  all  day.  The  farmer  and  his  wife  were  up  as  soon 
as  we,  and  had  rusks  and  hot,  strong  coffee  for  us.  It 
was  chilly,  and  the  coffee  was  a  good  "pick-me-up" 
before  a  day's  trek.  Before  we  left  the  Boer  made  us 
promise  to  stay  a  week  with  him  on  our  return  from 
Swaziland.  He  said  he  would  arrange  a  feast  for  us  and 
we  would  be  able  to  play  our  "hand-fiddle"  for  all  his 
neighbors. 

By  ten  o'clock  we  had  made  about  seven  miles,  and 
camped  for  breakfast  on  the  shores  of  a  small  lake. 
Our  progress  had  been  much  delayed  by  the  rain,  and 
this  made  the  walking  disagreeable  as  well.  We  were 
very  hungry  for  breakfast  and  Din  performed  wonders, 
considering  that  the  rain  continued  until  an  hour  after 
we  had  finished.  After  a  short  rest  we  started  on  again, 
and  by  four  o'clock  we  had  reached  the  banks  of  the 
Masuto  River.  Here  we  made  a  good  camp,  pitching 
two  additional  tents,  so  that  we  would  have  a  mess-room 
and  cook-house  with  which  the  rain  could  not  interfere. 
This  camp  was  chiefly  memorable  for  the  fact  that 
Rossman  almost  had  an  "adventure."  While  Din  was 
getting  supper  ready  the  camera-man  took  a  rifle  and 
went  along  the  river  with  the  intention  of  shooting  some- 
thing. He  had  been  gone  only  a  few  minutes  when  we 
heard  a  shout,  followed  by  a  shot.    Sugden  and  Cres- 

253 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

pinell  rushed  to  Rossman's  assistance,  each  with  a  rifle. 
They  reached  his  side  to  find  him  gazing  fearsomely  at 
a  large  snake  whose  back  had  been  severed  by  his  bul- 
let. It  was  a  dramatic  moment — especially  when  Sug- 
den  picked  up  the  snake  and  pointed  out  the  fact  that 
it  must  have  been  dead  for  a  week  or  more! 

That  night  we  were  all  very  tired  and  went  to  sleep 
as  early  as  possible.  Next  morning,  true  to  my  Boer 
upbringing,  I  was  up  and  about  before  dawn.  Coffee 
and  rusks  were  ready  soon  after,  and  my  companions 
were  awakened  to  face  their  third  day's  trek.  Of  course 
we  could  walk  faster  than  the  oxen,  so  I  pushed  ahead 
as  I  knew  that  there  was  a  Mapor  kraal  a  short  distance 
away.  We  reached  the  kraal  about  five  miles  ahead  of 
the  wagons,  and  this  gave  me  time  to  show  the  others 
their  first  native  settlement. 

All  the  men  were  away,  only  women  and  children 
being  at  home.  These  all  seemed  to  belong  to  a  small 
chief  of  the  tribe,  and  they  informed  me  that  he  was 
away  on  a  hunting  trip.  Sugden  and  the  others  were 
intensely  interested  in  everything  they  saw  and  I  ar- 
ranged for  them  to  inspect  the  interior  of  a  number  of 
the  huts. 

I  soon  noticed  that  all  the  women  were  much  taken 
with  Rossman ;  in  fact,  they  could  hardly  keep  their  eyes 
ofp  him.  I  found  by  questions  that  they  were  fascinated 
by  his  great  horn-rimmed  glasses.  The  upshot  was  that 
we  allowed  a  certain  few  of  these  dusky  Eves  to  try  the 
glasses  on,  and  they  were  much  amused  thereat.    We 

254 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

distributed  about  five  shillings  among  them  and  they 
treated  us  to  tswala  and  brought  us  a  number  of  fresh 
eggs. 

In  a  little  while  the  wagons  hove  in  sight  and  camped 
near  the  kraal  for  breakfast.  Scraps  of  wood  and  "buf- 
falo chips"  made  our  fire,  and  presently  Din  had  a  good 
"feed"  ready.  While  the  cooking  was  going  on  the  little 
kaffirs  gathered  about  the  camp  in  numbers.  Some  of 
them  even  drove  their  goats  close  so  that  they  might  see 
the  white  men  eat.  By  the  time  we  began  breakfast 
there  were  more  than  forty  of  these  little  beggars  squat- 
ting on  their  haunches  near  the  table.  They  watched 
every  motion  most  intently  and  followed  each  morsel 
to  its  destination.  Every  now  and  then  I  would  take 
a  piece  of  lump  sugar  and,  without  looking,  throw  it 
in  their  direction.  Instantly  there  would  be  the  fiercest 
sort  of  a  scramble  for  the  tidbit.  They  were  rough  be- 
yond reason,  and  every  now  and  then  one  of  them  would 
be  hurt  and  crawl  away  for  a  few  minutes  until  he 
had  recovered.  Never,  however,  would  he  cry  out  or 
show  that  he  felt  the  pain.  No  sooner  did  our  wagons 
leave  the  spot  than  there  was  a  wild  rush  to  where  we 
had  been.  They  fought  furiously  over  every  scrap  in 
the  hope  of  finding  food  that  the  white  men  had  thrown 
away. 

We  kept  steadily  on  until  five  o'clock  that  night,  and 
then  made  camp.  When  Din  gave  the  supper-call  at 
about  eight  o'clock,  Sugden  and  I  went  to  the  mess-tent 
to  find  Crespinell  and  Rossman  sound  asleep  on  the 

255 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

floor.  They  were  worn  out  by  the  steady  walking  and  I 
did  not  blame  them  for  taking  it  easy.  After  a  "shot" 
of  Picardy  brandy,  we  all  sat  down  to  the  best  supper 
Gunga  Din  had  yet  given  us.  There  was  soup,  chicken 
curry,  rice,  vanilla  pudding,  canned  fruits,  and  coffee. 
Truly,  a  feast  for  a  trek  supper ! 

That  night  Sugden  and  the  others  were  kept  awake 
for  some  time  by  the  howling  of  several  jackals.  They 
suggested  that  they  take  their  rifles  and  go  out  and 
"get  some  of  those  infernal  beasts!"  I  had  to  explain  to 
them  that  it  would  be  exactly  like  trying  to  shoot  the 
shadow  of  a  ghost,  and  they  went  back  to  bed  grumbling 
heartily. 

The  next  day  was  a  bad  one,  rain  making  our  prog- 
ress slow  and  miserable.  I  wanted  to  reach  a  certain 
point,  and  we  forced  the  oxen  until  noon  before  stop- 
ping. This  trek  had  been  too  long  and  hurt  the  brutes 
so  that  their  spirit  seemed  broken.  We  camped  among 
some  very  rugged  hills,  and  here  Dr.  Sugden  showed 
us  all  how  to  handle  tents  and  ropes  in  wet  weather. 
The  ease  with  which  he  tied  and  untied  knots  in  the 
ropes  astounded  our  kaffirs  and  filled  the  rest  of  us  with 
envy. 

The  rain  increased,  and  soon  everything  became 
soaked.  It  was  such  a  downpour  that  we  decided  to 
wait  for  it  to  slacken  and  ended  by  remaining  in  this 
camp  for  two  days.  Our  only  amusement  was  to  watch 
Tuis,  the  Basuto-Bushman  kaffir,  in  his  perpetual  con- 
flict with  the  other  boys.    Being  of  a  different  breed, 

256 


ON  THE  WAY  TO  THE  ROYAL  KRAAL  AT  ZOMBODE 

Dr.  O'Xeil  and  party  going  through  the  Valley  of  Heaven.    The  barren  mountains  in  the 

distance  show  the  rugged  nature  of  the  country 


THE  SECOND  TRIP  INTO  SWAZILAND 
The  O'Neil  caravan  shortly  after  the  draft-oxen  had  died  and  were  replaced  by  mules  and 

donkeys 


MOTHER  FEEDING  HER  BABY 


MAIDEN  SINGING  TO  THE  CROWN  PRINCE  SEBUZA 
She  is  playing  on  the  native  instrument  wiiich  consists  of  a  bow  and  one  string 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

he  did  everything  in  a  way  all  his  own  and,  in  addition, 
was  naturally  antagonistic  and  sulky. 

In  spite  of  the  picturesqueness  of  this  camp,  we  were 
very  glad  to  leave  it.  We  were  now  in  the  wild  country, 
with  no  farms,  and  the  only  break  in  the  monotony  was 
a  little  wild  goose  shooting  shortly  before  we  reached 
the  Swaziland  border.  Our  real  troubles  began  about 
this  time.  The  oxen  began  to  die,  and  it  was  not  long 
before  we  were  absolutely  stalled.  We  were  then  in 
camp  on  the  border,  and  it  looked  as  though  we  would 
stay  there  unless  I  was  able  to  get  some  other  animals 
to  pull  the  wagon. 

Finding  further  progress  impossible,  I  scouted  about 
and  ran  into  a  kaffir  living  on  the  border  who  had  a 
horse.  I  hired  this  steed — a  sorry  one  it  was — and, 
following  a  tip  given  me  by  its  owner,  rode  twelve  miles 
to  see  if  I  could  talk  business  with  a  small  Swazi  chief 
who  was  said  to  have  a  number  of  donkeys. 

At  first  this  old  chief  did  not  want  to  talk  about  don- 
keys at  all,  and  it  was  not  until  I  began  to  talk  payment 
first  and  donkeys  last  that  he  consented  to  get  down  to 
business.  We  finally  made  a  deal,  and  it  was  this:  I 
was  to  pay  him  the  equivalent  of  one  pound  sterling  in 
gin  for  every  day  I  used  his  donkeys.  This  was  not 
such  a  bad  bargain  because  I  had  to  have  about  forty 
of  the  little  animals  to  make  up  for  the  oxen  I  had  lost. 

The  most  interesting  part  of  this  transaction  was  to 
see  the  chief's  men  harness  the  donkeys  to  our  big  wagon. 
They  used  bits  of  weed-rope,  rawhide,  and  a  stout  grass 

257 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

rope  that  they  make  themselves.  The  harnessing  took 
a  long  time  and  we  were  delayed  until  I  began  to  grow 
impatient,  but  there  was  nothing  else  to  do  but  wait. 
Finally  we  were  off,  but  it  was  a  funny  looking  cara- 
van. It  had  been  raining  hard  for  some  days  and  we 
presently  came  to  a  little  stream  which  was  much 
swollen.  Here  we  had  a  terrible  time.  The  "harness" 
kept  breaking,  and  the  way  the  natives  thrashed  those 
poor  donkeys  was  frightful.  It  seemed  to  be  the  only 
method,  though,  and  eventually  we  took  a  hand  in  the 
punishment  ourselves. 

The  night  of  the  second  day  saw  us  camped  at  the 
foot  of  the  mountain  that  leads  to  the  village  of  Mba- 
bane. We  found  several  other  transport  wagons  there, 
with  three  white  traders  whose  occupation  was  to  carry 
goods  from  Ermelo  and  Carolina,  the  two  rail  stations, 
to  Mbabane  and  vice  versa.  These  traders  were  much 
interested  in  our  outfit,  and  by  treating  them  to  drinks, 
fresh  food,  and  the  payment  of  one  pound  sterling  I 
was  able  to  hire  twelve  donkeys  from  their  caravans  to 
assist  us  to  the  top  of  the  mountain.  We  started  at 
dawn  next  day,  and  by  noon  had  reached  the  summit. 
There  we  rested  for  the  balance  of  the  day. 

My  object  in  delaying  there  all  the  afternoon  was 
mainly  on  account  of  the  great  load  of  liquor  in  the  big 
wagon.  I  did  not  want  to  bring  this  through  Mbabane 
in  daylight  because  I  had  no  permit  to  bring  it  into 
Swaziland  and  I  did  not  want  to  get  caught  doing  so. 
I  thought  that  I  could  get  by  practically  unobserved 

258 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

if  I  waited  until  after  dark  and  then  went  through  the 
village  with  other  wagons.  Our  camp  at  the  top  of  the 
hill  was  about  three  miles  from  Mbabane,  and  I  or- 
dered Sibijaan  to  inspan  and  start  on  again  at  five 
o'clock.  This  would  bring  him  to  the  village  at  about 
eight  o'clock,  or  shortly  after  dark. 

We  went  ahead  and  called  on  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dickson, 
who  gave  us  tea.  It  was  real  English  tea  and  we  en- 
joyed it  immensely.  The  Dicksons  had  heard  of  our 
expedition  and  were  much  interested.  Mrs.  Dickson, 
however,  was  greatly  amused  at  our  capacity  for  tea, 
since  we  each  drank  between  five  and  six  cups.  But  we 
were  dead  tired  and  it  was  wonderful  to  shut  out  the 
whole  of  Swaziland  and  sit  down  in  this  cozy  English 
home  to  drink  decent  tea  poured  by  a  white  woman! 

After  thanking  the  Dicksons,  I  went  to  the  little  store 
and  bought  some  supplies.  I  also  went  to  the  hotel  and 
bought  some  liquor,  this  being  merely  for  camouflage, 
as  I  wished  them  to  think  I  needed  it.  The  supplies  and 
liquor  I  gave  to  a  native  carrier,  telling  him  to  take  it 
to  the  place  where  we  expected  to  camp  for  the  night. 
There  were  six  packages  in  all,  weighing  about  forty- 
five  pounds,  and  it  was  amusing  to  see  this  kaffir  summon 
five  others  to  help  him.  Each  Swazi,  carrying  his  shield, 
knob-kerrie,  and  assegai,  started  for  our  camp  with  a 
little  parcel  on  his  head. 

The  wagon  was  late.  I  began  to  be  worried,  for  I 
had  estimated  that  it  would  arrive  in  the  village  about 
eight  o'clock.    I  spent  a  nervous  hour  or  so  waiting  for 

259 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

it  to  show  up,  but  it  did  not  do  so  till  about  9 :30.  I  told 
Sibijaan  to  proceed  to  the  camping  place  about  two 
miles  further  on,  and  we  pushed  ahead  to  be  on  hand 
when  it  arrived. 

Soon  we  ran  into  a  typical  wonder-sight  of  that  part 
of  the  country.  I  had  noticed  a  red  glow  in  the  sky  off 
to  the  left,  and  on  turning  a  little  hill  we  saw  that  the 
whole  side  of  a  mountain  was  one  tremendous  fire. 
While  this  was  at  its  worst,  or  most  glorious,  height, 
the  great  red  African  moon  came  up  over  the  mountain 
like  a  huge  ball  of  flame.  The  whole  scene  was  so 
striking  that  Sugden  insisted  we  ought  to  take  a  picture 
of  it.  We  hurried  back  to  the  wagon  and  found  a  num- 
ber of  Swazis  trailing  it  out  of  curiosity.  With  the  aid 
of  a  box  of  cigarettes,  I  pressed  twelve  of  them  into 
service  and  got  the  cameras  to  the  spot  from  which  we 
wanted  to  take  the  picture.  While  we  were  doing  this 
little  Swazis  seemed  to  spring  up  out  of  the  ground, 
and  before  we  had  finished  there  must  have  been  at  least 
four  score  of  them  wondering  what  the  white  men  were 
trjdng  to  do. 

Sibijaan  saw  a  chance  to  air  his  superior  knowledge 
and  I  heard  him  teUing  these  Httle  fellows  a  prepos- 
terous yam. 

"You  see  those  black  boxes?"  he  said,  pointing  to  the 
cameras.  "Well,  those  are  the  magic  boxes  of  Nkoos 
Mzaan  Bakoor,  the  great  white  witch-doctor.  He  will 
look  at  the  fire  through  them  and  soon  it  will  go  out.    If 

260 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

he  is  offended,  he  can  make  the  fire  burn  up  the  whole 
country  and  kill  all  the  Swazis !" 

I  was  afraid  to  look  back  and  note  the  effect  of  this 
beautiful  lie,  but  I  heard  the  kaffir  exclamation  of  won- 
der— "Ou!  Ou!" — from  a  dozen  throats  and  decided 
that  my  trusty  henchman  had  gotten  away  with  it. 

By  the  time  we  had  packed  our  cameras  again  the 
wagons  had  caught  up  with  us  and  we  went  on.  The 
spot  I  had  picked  for  the  camp  was  under  a  small  grove 
of  palm  trees  across  a  little  stream,  and  we  arrived  there 
to  find  that  the  six  carriers  had  started  a  fire.  It  was 
about  midnight  when  our  wagons  reached  camp,  and 
soon  after  we  rolled  up  in  our  blankets  and  dropped 
off  to  sleep  just  where  we  stood. 

Next  morning  we  started  down  the  steep  slopes  into 
the  Valley  of  Heaven.  This  was  a  very  dangerous 
descent  for  the  wagons,  so  that  it  was  after  midday  be- 
fore we  reached  the  floor  of  the  valley.  The  poor  don- 
keys were  completely  exhausted,  and  we  camped  there 
until  next  day. 

The  Valley  of  Heaven  was  certainly  living  up  to  its 
name.  It  was  never  so  lovely,  and  my  companions  were 
enthusiastic  in  its  praise.  I  pointed  out  to  them  the 
Place  of  Execution  and  Sheba's  Breasts  as  we  came 
down  the  mountain,  and  they  immediately  decided  they 
would  visit  both  before  returning  to  Ermelo. 

Although  I  remember  the  beauties  of  the  Valley  of 
Heaven  as  though  it  were  yesterday,  still  the  difficulties 
that  befell  us  there  made  me  at  that  time  regard  it  as 

261 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

the  "Valley  of  Hell."  We  had  come  down  about  two 
thousand  feet  and  the  climate  was  hot,  moist,  and  un- 
comfortable. Our  energy  was  sapped,  the  donkeys  were 
worn  out,  and  our  kaffir  boys  were  lazy  beyond  all  use. 

The  trail  ahead  consisted  of  a  succession  of  low 
hills  cut  by  little  streams.  Many  of  the  incHnes  were 
steep,  and  I  estimated  that  we  would  be  lucky  if  we 
made  five  or  six  miles  a  day.  It  was  practically  impos- 
sible to  judge  distance,  and  this  led  me  into  error.  I 
had  picked  out  a  camping  spot  seemingly  about  six 
miles  away,  and  Sugden  and  I  started  to  walk  to  it. 
The  grass  was  six  feet  high  in  most  places  and  full  of 
deadly  snakes.  Few  of  the  little  streams  were  fit  to 
drink,  and  the  farther  we  walked  the  farther  the  chosen 
spot  seemed  to  recede.  Finally  we  saw  a  fair-sized 
stream  which  we  thought  was  two  miles  away,  but  which 
turned  out  to  be  nearer  four.  When  we  reached  it  we 
drank,  after  straining  the  water  through  our  handker- 
chiefs. We  were  very  hot  and  uncomfortable,  and  were 
made  supremely  unhappy  by  the  realization  that  the 
wagon  could  not  reach  us  for  at  least  two  days. 

There  was  nothing  to  do  but  go  back,  and  we  finally 
reached  the  outfit  at  sunset.  The  donkeys  were  com- 
pletely exhausted,  so  we  camped  right  there.  I  realized 
that  for  the  last  thirty  miles  before  reaching  the  royal 
kraal  at  Zombode  we  would  be  lucky  if  we  made  three 
or  four  miles  a  day. 

Because  of  this  experience  I  changed  our  trek  time. 
Instead  of  trying  to  make  it  in  daylight,  we  did  most 

262 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

of  our  traveling  by  dark.  This  helped  a  little,  but  we 
failed  to  make  more  than  a  mile  every  two  hours,  even 
when  the  going  was  good.  To  add  to  the  misery  of  the 
trek,  the  mosquitos  tormented  us  continually.  How- 
ever, these  pests  introduced  a  little  comedy  into  our 
suffering,  for  my  companions  would  recall  the  mos- 
quitoes of  New  Jersey,  U.  S.  A.  and  compare  them 
with  those  of  South  Africa. 

Crespinell  summed  up  the  comparison  when  he  said: 

"For  brutality  and  ruthlessness  these  'skeeters  take 
the  biscuit,  but  the  New  Jersey  breed  have  got  'em 
skinned  a  mile  when  it  comes  to  technique  !'* 

At  the  end  of  five  days  of  untold  hardships  we  climbed 
out  of  the  Valley  of  Heaven  and  reached  the  stream  that 
divides  the  royal  from  the  common  ground  at  Zombode. 
We  arrived  there  at  about  nine  o'clock  at  night. 

Fires  were  burning  in  front  of  many  of  the  huts  and 
there  was  a  hum  of  life  in  the  air.  The  sounds  were  all 
the  more  noticeable  because  no  one  appeared  to  have 
any  intention  of  meeting  us  or  giving  us  a  welcome.  We 
pitched  camp  and  Din  prepared  the  evening  meal.  By 
this  time  we  had  a  score  of  little  visitors,  all  Swazi  chil- 
dren of  about  ten  or  twelve  years  of  age.  Usually  these 
little  beggars  are  in  bed  at  this  time  of  night,  but  the 
noise  of  our  wagons  had  aroused  them  and  they  had 
sneaked  out  of  the  huts  to  investigate. 

None  of  the  indunas,  warriors,  or  women  came  near 
us,  and  I  soon  realized  that  we  were  in  disfavor  for  some 
reason  or  other.    Only  a  direct  command  from  Lomwazi 

263 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

or  the  old  queen  would  have  made  the  people  avoid  us 
in  this  manner.  However,  it  was  not  fitting  that  I 
should  visit  the  royal  kraal  without  invitation,  so  I  did 
not  stir  from  our  camp  that  night.  In  the  morning  I 
announced  my  arrival  to  Labotsibeni  without  the  in- 
dignity of  supplicating  an  interview.  This  came  about 
in  a  peculiar  manner. 

Shortly  after  dawn  I  was  awakened  by  the  deep  bass 
of  a  native  who  seemingly  was  greatly  annoyed.  The 
voice  was  strangely  familiar,  but  I  could  not  place  it  for 
the  moment.  In  a  httle  while  Sibijaan  came  into  the 
tent  with  my  coffee  and  announced  that  I  had  a  visitor. 

"Ou  Baas,  there  is  a  great  induna  outside,"  he  said, 
"and  he  wants  to  see  you.  He  says  he  is  very  angry. 
Shall  I  tell  him  to  go  to  hell?" 

Thirsting  for  information  regarding  things  at  the 
royal  kraal,  I  bade  Sibijaan  send  him  in.  This  my  old 
playmate  did  with  poor  grace,  since  he  would  have  pre- 
ferred to  be  cheeky  to  the  chief. 

To  my  surprise,  Manaan — ^he  of  the  savings-bank  ac- 
count— strode  in.  He  was  carrying  his  war  tools  and 
stood  facing  me  for  an  instant  in  quite  a  belligerent 
attitude.  I  was  wearing  only  a  thin  bathrobe  and  for 
a  second  or  two  the  angry  black  man  faced  the  white. 
Then  the  age-old  supremacy  of  race  asserted  itself  and 
Manaan  dropped  his  eyes  with  the  familiar  "Nkoos!" 

"What  the  devil  is  the  matter  with  you  ?"  I  demanded 
angrily.  "Why  do  you  make  all  this  row  so  early  in 
the  morning?" 

264 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"Peace,  Nkoos,  peace!"  the  old  induna  answered. 
"I  did  not  know  that  it  was  you.  I  would  not  have  made 
talk  if  I  had  known." 

Then  he  went  on  to  explain  that  our  donkeys  had 
strayed  across  the  stream  during  the  night  and  had 
ruined  his  corn  patch.  He  insisted  that  the  poor  beasts 
had  eaten  all  the  young  com  and  that  he  and  all  his 
wives  faced  starvation  during  the  coming  year.  What 
he  really  was  worried  about,  it  developed,  was  that 
there  would  be  no  corn  to  make  tswala  and  in  conse- 
quence he  would  have  to  go  without  his  beer  until  a 
new  crop  came  in. 

I  sympathized  with  him  and  told  him  that  I  would 
go  over  and  see  the  damage  as  soon  as  I  was  up  and 
about,  agreeing  to  pay  him  for  it.  I  felt  sure  that  he 
was  lying,  but  did  not  want  to  make  an  enemy  of  him, 
since  I  knew  that  he  was  said  to  be  close  to  Labotsibeni. 
In  the  olden  days  he  was  leader  of  one  of  Buno's  crack 
impis  and  was  a  noted  warrior. 

In  a  little  while  I  accompanied  him  to  look  at  the 
ruined  crop,  and,  as  I  suspected,  found  he  had  lied  like 
a  kaffir.  The  damage  was  about  three  shillings  worth, 
and  I  told  him  so  and  offered  to  pay  him  the  money. 
He  became  very  indignant. 

"This  is  not  right,  Nkoos !"  he  almost  shouted.  "I  am 
a  great  induna  and  cannot  be  treated  in  this  way.  I 
am  one  of  the  queen's  most  important  chiefs  and  I  shall 
report  this  injustice  to  her." 

Now  this  threat  suited  me.    If  the  old  fool  reported 

26d 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

that  I  was  robbing  him,  he  would  also  be  notifying 
Labotsibeni  that  I  was  in  the  neighborhood. 

"I  am  wilUng  to  abide  by  what  the  queen  decides," 
I  said.  "You  tell  her  that  I  await  her  word.  I  shall 
state  my  side  to  her,  and  you  can  state  yours!" 

This  was  what  I  really  wanted.  It  would  bring  me 
before  the  old  queen  and  allow  me  to  ask  her  about  the 
coronation.  With  this  understanding  Manaan  left  for 
the  royal  kraal,  while  I  went  to  breakfast.  Shortly 
after  we  had  finished,  Manaan  returned. 

"I  have  seen  the  queen,"  he  announced  in  an  impor- 
tant manner,  "and  she  is  much  offended  because  you 
have  treated  Manaan  so  unjustly.  She  says  that  you 
must  pay  me  five  shillings  and  a  bottle  of  gin,  and  then 
the  debt  will  be  satisfied." 

To  make  the  payment  seem  greater  I  protested  for 
a  moment  and  then  gave  it  to  the  old  fellow.  I  asked 
him  how  the  queen  was,  but  he  answered  evasively.  This 
brought  the  suspicion  that  he  had  not  seen  Labotsibeni 
at  all  and  had  concocted  the  story  about  her  decision 
as  to  the  payment.  Manaan  would  have  been  quite 
capable  of  this  because  he  had  lived  for  some  time  among 
the  whites  in  Johannesburg  and  had  been  schooled  in 
guile. 

Nevertheless,  I  was  satisfied  that  he  had  brought 
word  to  the  royal  kraal  that  I  was  there,  and  I  expected 
that  I  would  soon  receive  a  message  from  the  queen 
to  come  and  see  her.  When  the  sun  showed  that  it  was 
nearly  noon  I  decided  to  force  her  hand  and  sent  Sibi- 

266 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

jaan  with  presents,  which  means  gin,  to  the  royal  kraal. 
He  returned  presently,  saying  that  Lomwazi  had  taken 
them  from  him  and  that  they  had  been  accepted  by  the 
queen. 

Sunset  came  and  yet  there  was  no  word  from  the  old 
lady,  and  I  began  to  grow  anxious.  I  sent  for  Manaan 
and  cultivated  him  in  an  attempt  to  get  some  informa- 
tion. He  soon  became  drunk  and  told  me  many  little 
things,  none  of  which  threw  much  light  on  my  problem. 
One  statement,  however,  was  important. 

"All  the  people,  except  Lomwazi  and  a  few  of  those 
close  to  the  queen,  want  Sebuza  to  be  king,"  he  said. 
"They  are  tired  of  being  ruled  by  a  queen,  and  Lomwazi 
asks  too  much.  He  always  wants  more  cattle  and  corn 
from  each  kraal,  and  the  people  are  dissatisfied.  Even 
now  they  are  waiting  for  Sebuza  to  come  down  out  of 
the  mountains  and  it  is  said  they  will  demand  that  he 
be  made  king  then!" 

Part  of  this  was  very  interesting.  I  was  glad  to  know 
that  the  people  wanted  Sebuza,  but  I  doubted  that  they 
would  dare  to  ask  for  him  to  be  appointed  king.  The 
Swazis  are  subservient  to  their  rulers  and  it  was  un- 
thinkable that  they  would  assume  to  ask  Labotsibeni 
to  abdicate.  They  were  very  afraid  of  the  old  queen; 
she  seemed  to  exert  some  sort  of  extraordinary  influence 
over  them.  It  was  cheering,  however,  to  know  that  I 
had  public  opinion  on  my  side. 


267 


CHAPTER  XVI 

Labotsibeni  refuses  to  see  me — Sugden  and  my  men  escape  assassination — 
A  fruitless  conference — We  flee  to  Lebombo — Oom  Tuys  turns  up — 
We  confer  with  Queen  Tzaneen  and  Lochien — Five-and-ten-cent-store 
jewelry  has  persuasive  powers — Sugden  falls  ill — We  build  his  co&n — 
Sebuza  returns  from  his  sanctification. 

NEXT  morning  I  got  up,  pocketed  my  pride,  and 
decided  to  call  on  Queen  Labotsibeni.  When  I 
reached  the  entrance  of  the  royal  kraal  I  was  met  by 
Lomwazi.  He  was  furtive  in  manner  and  did  not  look 
me  in  the  eyes.  His  voice,  as  usual,  was  quite  low,  and 
for  once  his  dramatic  gestures  were  lacking. 

I  demanded  to  be  allowed  to  see  Labotsibeni.  Lom- 
wazi shook  his  head  and  spread  out  his  hands  depre- 
catingly. 

"The  queen  will  not  see  you,  Nkoos,"  he  said,  "and  she 
sends  word  that  you  are  not  to  camp  on  the  royal 
ground." 

"But  why  won't  she  see  me?  I  bring  her  presents  and 
much  gin,"  I  protested.  "She  promised  that  I  should 
attend  the  coronation  of  Prince  Sebuza!" 

"She  is  very,  very  old,  but  still  she  does  n't  want  to 
die,"  added  the  wily  Lomwazi,  glancing  at  me  out  of 
the  corner  of  his  eye. 

At  last  I  understood.  Lomwazi  had  let  the  cat  out 
of  the  bag  and  the  delay  in  the  coronation  of  Sebuza  ex- 

268 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

plained  itself.  Tempted  by  the  great  price  I  had  offered 
for  the  picture  rights— five  hundred  cattle,  five  hundred 
gallons  of  gin,  and  five  hundred  pounds  in  gold— the  old 
queen  had  overlooked  the  fact  that  Sebuza's  accession 
to  the  throne  meant  her  death.  At  the  time  I  made 
the  bargain  with  her,  or  with  Lomwazi  as  her  agent, 
she  had  consoled  herself  with  the  thought  that  the  British 
Government  would  be  able  to  save  her  life.  Now  she 
was  afraid  that  the  government  might  not  be  able  to  do 
so  and  wanted  the  coronation  delayed  indefinitely,  or 
put  off  for  good. 

Labotsibeni  and  Lomwazi  were  in  an  uncomfortable 
position.  They  faced  either  the  certainty  of  being  sacri- 
ficed when  Sebuza  mounted  the  throne  or  the  breaking 
of  their  contract  with  me.  In  addition,  the  sentiment 
of  the  people  of  Swaziland  was  against  the  old  ruler 
and  Lomwazi  must  have  known  it.  Under  Labotsibeni 
there  had  been  more  than  twenty  years  of  peace,  and 
there  had  grown  up  a  feeling  that  the  nation  was  be- 
coming decadent  without  a  war,  if  only  a  little  one 
against  some  inferior  tribe.  The  British  had  backed 
the  old  queen  in  all  her  moves  toward  keeping  peace 
within  her  borders,  and  the  fighting  men  of  Swaziland 
were  unhappy  at  not  having  any  opportunities  to  show 
their  mettle.  From  the  days  of  Ama-Swazi  the  Swazis 
had  been  a  warlike  people,  and  the  bloodthirsty  Buno 
had  developed  their  ferocity  by  frequent  raids  and 
forays  on  neighboring  tribes.  The  accession  of  Sebuza, 
young  and  warlike,  made  the  Swazis  feel  that  they  would 

269 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

have  a  real  leader  again,  and  the  fact  that  the  crown 
prince  was  the  son  of  Buno  added  to  their  desire  for  him 
to  reign. 

I  had  left  Oom  Tuys  in  Ermelo  with  the  understand- 
ing that  he  would  join  us  in  Zombode.  I  began  to  wish 
he  would  show  up,  since  I  seemed  to  be  butting  my  stub- 
born Boer  head  against  a  brick  wall  and  my  uncle  was 
the  one  white  man  in  all  the  Transvaal  in  whom  old 
liabotsibeni  placed  her  trust.  I  knew  that  she  would 
not  refuse  to  see  him  and  there  was  a  chance  of  his 
getting  her  to  agree  to  the  coronation. 

Realizing  that  we  were  in  for  a  delay  that  might  last 
several  months,  Dr.  Sugden  and  his  companions  decided 
to  study  the  Swazis  at  close  range  and  compile  data 
concerning  the  tribe.  To  me  was  left  the  politics  and 
"wangling"  of  the  expedition,  while  they  started  out 
blithely  one  morning  to  catch  Swazis. 

Their  expedition  was  abortive,  to  put  it  mildly.  Of 
course  Sugden  would  only  be  content  with  Swazi  life 
as  exhibited  in  the  royal  kraal,  and  it  was  there  that  he 
decided  to  begin.  I  did  not  know  this,  and  thought 
that  he  was  going  to  visit  some  of  the  little  kraals  where 
the  indunas  lived. 

I  was  sitting  in  my  tent  thinking  about  sending  a  man 
to  find  Tuys,  when  Sibijaan  came  running  in  very  much 
excited. 

"Ou  Baas,  Mlung  Emantzi  Eenui,  Makofa,  and  the 
other  white  man  are  going  to  be  killed  at  the  royal 
kraal  I"  he  cried. 

270 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Now  Sugden  was  called  Mlung  Emantzi  Eenui — 
"The  Man  of  Living  and  Burning  Words" — by  the 
kaffirs,  and  Crespinell  was  given  the  name  of  Makofa, 
which  means  "The  Small  Alert  One."  The  other  white 
man  was  Rossman,  of  course. 

I  sprang  out  of  the  tent,  across  the  little  stream,  and 
ran  to  the  royal  kraal.  There  I  found  my  companions 
surrounded  by  a  full  impi  of  warriors  who  had  hemmed 
them  in  with  their  assegais.  The  white  men  had  drawn 
their  revolvers  and  were  ready  to  use  them.  It  only 
remained  for  some  one  to  make  a  sudden  break  and 
there  would  be  a  killing. 

"Make  way!  Make  way!"  I  yelled,  diving  through 
the  throng. 

In  a  second  or  two  I  reached  Sugden,  who  had  the 
grim  look  that  means  fight.  He  had  Lomwazi  covered 
with  his  revolver  and  I  could  see  that  the  induna  would 
be  the  first  to  go  if  the  shooting  started. 

"What 's  all  this  trouble?"  I  demanded,  as  though 
I  were  the  chief  of  all.  "Why  are  these  wariike  man- 
ceuvers?    Why  have  these  warriors  stopped  my  men?" 

Lomwazi  hesitated  for  a  moment,  during  which  I 
could  see  the  tension  relax  and  the  Swazis  begin  to  drop 
their  spear-points. 

"It  is  forbidden  that  white  men  enter  the  royal  kraal," 
the  chief  said.  "These  men  tried  to  force  their  way  in. 
They  said  they  wanted  to  see  all  things  in  the  kraal. 
The  queen  sent  her  own  impi  to  stop  them  and  gave 

271 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

orders  that  they  were  to  be  killed  if  they  did  not  go 
away  I" 

Sugden  was  much  disgusted,  and  gave  his  side  of  the 
a£Pair. 

"I  only  wanted  to  take  a  look  around,"  he  said.  "We 
were  just  inside  the  kraal  when  these  men  came  run- 
ning from  every  direction  and  surrounded  us.  I  thought 
we  would  have  to  fight  our  way  out  and  would  have 
popped  some  of  them  off  if  Lomwazi  had  not  come  up. 
He  told  us  to  get  out,  and  here  we  are!" 

That  seemed  to  be  all  there  was  to  it.  However,  it 
was  a  bad  affair,  as  it  put  me  in  the  position  of  trying 
to  break  into  the  queen's  kraal  without  permission. 
Later  I  realized  that  it  did  not  make  much  difference, 
since  we  were  out  of  favor  at  Zombode  anyway. 

I  was  well  nigh  desperate  now.  It  seemed  as  though 
nothing  could  be  accomplished  thi'ough  Labotsibeni  or 
Lomwazi,  but  I  decided  to  make  one  last  appeal  to  him. 
I  sent  him  a  present  by  Sibijaan  and  asked  that  he  come 
and  see  me  at  my  camp. 

My  boy  brought  back  word  that  Lomwazi  would  see 
me  next  morning,  but  would  meet  me  at  the  crossing 
of  the  little  stream.  "When  the  sun  reaches  the  royal 
kraal"  was  the  time  set,  which  must  have  been  about 
seven  or  seven-fifteen  o'clock. 

The  stream  was  only  a  short  distance  from  our  camp, 
and  I  watched  until  I  saw  Lomwazi  coming  to  the  ren- 
dezvous. I  had  expected  that  he  would  arrive  with  foiu* 
or  five  of  his  indunas,  and  I  had  arranged  that  all  my 

272 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

white  companions  should  accompany  me  to  the  inter- 
view. Instead,  Lomwazi  brought  practically  the  whole 
royal  impi  with  him.  The  savages  were  in  full  war 
costume  and  made  a  splendid  picture  as  they  marched, 
the  sun  reflecting  from  their  black  shoulders  and  asse- 
gais. It  was  the  first  time  that  Sugden  and  the  others 
had  seen  a  whole  impi  in  all  its  glory  and  they  were 
much  impressed.  The  warriors  were  drawn  up  in  a 
sort  of  regimental  formation  at  the  meeting-place,  with 
Lomwazi  waiting  in  front,  by  the  time  I  decided  we 
should  leave  our  tents. 

Since  they  had  come  armed  to  the  conference,  my 
companions  and  I  shouldered  our  rifles — we  always 
wore  revolvers — and  walked  in  a  leisurely  manner 
toward  the  little  stream.  As  we  came  close  Lomwazi 
raised  his  arms  in  greeting  and  the  impi  gave  us  the 
royal  salute.  It  was  the  first  time  in  some  years  that 
I  had  been  thus  honored.  The  shrill  whistle  follow- 
ing the  heavy  stamp  of  the  thousand  feet  gave  the 
Americans  a  real  thrill. 

Lomwazi  and  I  shook  hands  in  a  formal  way  and 
then  sat  down  to  talk  things  over.  I  little  thought  that 
this  would  be  the  last  friendly  conference  I  would  have 
with  him.  Behind  me  sat  my  three  companions,  while 
behind  the  vizier  sat  four  or  five  of  his  high  men,  all 
lesser  indunas  and  leaders  of  warriors.  It  was  an  im- 
posing gathering,  much  hke  many  out  of  which  peace 
has  come  during  the  various  savage  wars  between  the 
whites  and  kaifirs  in  the  Transvaal. 

273 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND    . 

After  the  necessary  conventional  amenities,  which 
have  to  do  with  health  and  the  condition  of  wives,  I  came 
to  the  main  question,  but  from  a  widely  different  angle. 

"Lomwazi,  you  and  Queen  Labotsibeni  made  a  paper 
with  me  that  shows  I  gave  you  five  hundred  cows,  five 
hundred  gallons  of  gin,  and  five  hundred  pounds  in 
gold  for  the  right  to  take  pictures  of  the  coronation 
of  Sebuza,"  I  began.  "Now  the  queen  will  not  see  me 
and  you  will  not  tell  me  the  truth  when  I  want  to  know 
about  the  coronation.  Other  indunas  have  told  me  that 
you  and  the  queen  have  plotted  to  prevent  Sebuza  be- 
coming king — " 

"Nkoos,  that  is  not  so !"  Lomwazi  returned  hotly,  in- 
terrupting me.  "We  wish  Sebuza  to  become  king  and 
will  do  nothing  to  prevent  it.  It  is  the  government 
that  does  not  wish  him  to  become  king;  it  is  the  govern- 
ment, and  not  my  mother,  Labotsibeni !" 

This  I  knew  to  be  partly  true,  but  I  felt  sure  that 
the  government  would  be  willing  that  Sebuza  should 
reign  if  the  change  in  rulers  was  accomplished  without 
bloodshed, 

"Then  if  the  government  refuses  to  let  Sebuza  be 
king,"  I  went  on,  "you  and  the  queen  have  obtained 
much  wealth  from  me  for  something  you  knew  you  could 
not  give.  There  is  only  one  thing  for  me  to  do — ^that 
is,  to  hold  you  and  the  queen  liable  for  the  price  of  the 
rights  she  granted  me.  I  shall  notify  the  government  at 
Mbabane  and  ask  that  it  collect  the  money  value  of 
what  you  received  from  me.    I  am  a  friend  of  the  gov- 

274 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

ernment  and  close  to  the  Commissioner,  and  he  will 
send  to  Johannesburg  for  troops  who  will  come  and 
collect  from  you.  If  you  do  not  care  to  have  me  do  this, 
you  can  make  restitution  now  by  giving  me  the  price  in 
cows." 

Now  this  meant  that  Lomwazi  would  have  to  round 
up  at  least  two  thousand  head  of  cattle  and  turn  them 
over  to  me.  This  I  knew  he  could  do,  but  I  also  knew 
that  he  would  not  do  it  without  such  compulsion  as  I 
was  unable  to  bring. 

He  glanced  keenly  at  me  while  I  laid  down  the  terms 
of  my  ultimatum  and  saw  that  I  was  in  dead  earnest. 
With  his  great  cunning,  Lomwazi  is  a  keen  judge  of 
human  nature,  and  he  watched  me  to  see  if  I  was  bluffing 
or  not.  He  decided  that  I  was  not  and  listened  in  silence 
to  the  end.  Then  he  raised  his  eyes  and  spoke  in  the 
same  low,  level  tone  he  always  used. 

"Nkoos,  what  you  ask  is  unjust,"  he  said.  "Labotsi- 
beni  gave  the  word  of  a  Swazi  queen  and  her  word  can- 
not be  broken.  You  will  have  the  opportunity  you  have 
bought  and  I  shall  see  that  it  is  so!" 

"Yes?  Then  how  soon  will  Sebuza  be  crowned?" 
1  asked. 

"When  Queen  Labotsibeni,  mother  of  Buno,  gives  the 
word  the  ceremonies  will  take  place,"  he  said,  and  this 
ended  the  interview. 

Lomwazi  threw  his  leopardskin  cloak  about  his 
shoulders  and  rose,  and  I  got  to  my  feet  also,  feeling 
that  I  had  gone  as  far  as  I  could,  but  had  gained  noth- 

275 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

ing.  The  indunas  shook  hands  and  the  impi  gave  their 
salute  as  he  raised  his  arms  with  the  salutation, 
"Nkoos !"  Then  he  turned  and  went  back  to  the  royal 
kraal  followed  by  the  great  warriors,  their  plumes  nod- 
ding in  the  sunlight. 

I  realized  that  I  had  come  to  the  end  of  my  string  at 
Zombode.  The  old  queen  would  not  give  the  word  for 
the  coronation  to  take  place  and  undoubtedly  Lomwazi 
was  behind  her  refusal.  Looking  back,  I  do  not  blame 
them  very  much;  the  coronation  would  be  their  death 
warrant  and  the  government  was  not  prepared  to  send 
troops  to  protect  them. 

That  night  I  had  a  little  talk  with  Sugden,  who  was 
feeling  ill,  explaining  to  him  what  we  were  up  against. 

*'It  looks  as  if  we  are  out  of  luck,"  was  his  comment, 
"but  there  must  be  some  way  to  beat  the  game.  I  'd 
hate  to  lose  out,  now  that  we  're  here.  It  seems  to  me 
that  you  ought  to  be  able  to  find  a  way  to  prevent 
Lomwazi  from  sitting  on  the  lid  much  longer.  Let 's 
see  if  we  can't  get  action  by  talking  to  the  other  indunas." 

This  did  not  seem  a  good  plan  to  me.  Sugden  did 
not  know  these  people  and  underestimated  the  power 
of  the  old  queen.  She  represented  the  established  order 
of  things,  and  the  government  always  objected  to  any- 
thing new,  particularly  in  the  way  of  rulers. 

"No,  I  can't  agree  to  that  scheme,"  I  told  him;  "but 
I  believe  I  will  have  a  look  at  the  other  side  of  this  game. 
Queen  Tzaneen  is  reported  to  be  much  incensed  because 

276 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Labotsibeni  doesn't  allow  the  coronation  and  I  think 
I  will  have  an  interview  with  her." 

Having  taken  this  decision,  I  made  arrangements  to 
start  for  Lebombo,  the  royal  kraal  of  Queen  Tzaneen 
and  her  son,  the  next  morning  as  soon  as  it  was  light 
enough  to  trek.  That  night  the  donkeys  were  all  driven 
in,  so  that  they  would  be  ready  when  wanted.  During 
the  weeks  we  had  spent  at  Zombode  these  poor  animals 
had  greatly  improved.  There  was  good  feed  and  water 
there,  and  they  looked  sleek  and  fresh  again. 

Dawn  saw  us  on  the  road  to  Lebombo.  Camp  for 
breakfast  was  made  on  the  bank  of  the  little  river  that 
separates  the  land  belonging  to  the  two  villages,  and  we 
came  in  sight  of  the  kraals  after  about  two  hours. 

Our  reception  here  was  very  different.  Lochien,  who 
was  the  vizier,  or  secretary  of  state,  of  Queen  Tzaneen, 
and  one  of  the  sons  of  King  Buno,  her  late  husband, 
came  out  to  meet  us.  He  had  a  number  of  indunas  with 
him  and  was  most  cordial.  His  first  words  gave  me 
great  pleasure. 

"Welcome,  Nkoos,"  he  said.  "Welcome  to  Lebombo  I 
Last  night  the  White  King  of  Swaziland  came  to 
Lebombo  and  waits  for  you  at  the  royal  kraal." 

This  was  good  news,  indeed.  Oom  Tuys  had  arrived 
and  was  waiting  for  me  I  I  thanked  my  stars  that  he 
had  not  gone  to  Zombode  and  thus  missed  me.  At  last 
it  began  to  look  as  though  we  would  get  some  action. 

A  few  minutes  later,  our  great  wagon  creaking  and 
the  boys  shouting  to  the  donkeys,  we  approached  the 

277 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

kraals  and  I  saw  a  solitary  figure  coming  out  to  meet  us. 
It  was  a  tall  heavy  white  man,  long  bearded  and  wide- 
hatted,  with  the  rolling  gait  of  one  whose  only  home  is 
the  saddle — Oom  Tuys  Grobler,  my  uncle,  the  'White 
King  of  Swaziland." 

He  threw  his  great  arms  about  me  and  gave  me  a 
"bear  hug,"  and  then  held  me  at  arms'  length  and  looked 
me  over. 

"So  you  are  all  right,  Mzaan  Bakoor?"  he  asked  in 
his  gruff  voice.  "This  morning  a  kaffir  came  and  said 
that  last  night  a  plan  was  made  to  stop  you  from  coming 
here,  and  I  was  anxious.  I  only  heard  about  it  a  few 
minutes  ago,  and  was  on  the  point  of  starting  for  Zom- 
bode  when  the  runners  came  and  said  you  were  near." 

This  was  news  to  me.  I  did  not  know  that  Lomwazi 
had  decided  to  prevent  me  from  going  to  Lebombo.  It 
showed  that  he  was  afraid  to  have  me  learn  the  truth 
from  Tzaneen  and  Lochein.  I  was  thankful  that  we 
had  not  had  trouble,  for  our  patience  was  well  nigh  ex- 
hausted and  there  would  have  been  a  battle  if  Labotsi- 
beni's  men  had  tried  to  bar  our  path. 

I  asked  Tuys  about  the  lay  of  the  land  at  Tzaneen's 
kraal,  and  he  told  me  that  she  was  very  much  excited 
over  the  situation. 

"The  queen  mother  is  very  angry  at  Labotsibeni,"  he 
said.  "It  is  another  case  of  the  mother-in-law  over 
again.  Tzaneen  feels  that  the  old  lady  will  hang  on 
to  the  throne  as  long  as  she  lives,  and  as  she  is  now  in 
her  second  hundred  years  that  is  likely  to  be  a  long  time. 

278 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Only  last  night  Tzaneen  reminded  me  of  the  Swazi  say- 
ing, 'If  you  live  to  be  a  hundred,  you  live  forever,'  and 
she  spoke  of  Labotsibeni  with  bitterness. 

"Sebuza  will  soon  return  from  the  mountains  and  it 
will  be  a  national  scandal  for  him  to  have  to  wait  for  his 
kingdom.  His  mother  is  frantic  over  the  situation  and 
even  talks  of  taking  the  throne  by  force.  Of  course 
such  things  have  been  done," — and  he  smiled — "but  I 
told  her  that  the  government  would  not  stand  for  such 
action." 

Lochien  then  told  us  that  the  sanctification  ceremonies 
were  about  ended  and  Sebuza  would  return  within  the 
next  week.  As  these  ceremonies  also  included  the  com- 
ing of  age  of  the  young  crown  prince,  he  was  attended 
•  by  the  chief  witch-doctors  and  made  to  undergo  scari- 
fication and  circumcision.  He  had  to  live  on  the  barren 
slopes  of  the  mountains,  his  only  food  being  wild  ber- 
ries and  the  game  he  killed  himself.  Only  the  witch- 
doctors could  visit  him,  and  their  visits  were  official 
and  hedged  about  with  much  flummery  and  hocus-pocus. 

Tzaneen  was  waiting  to  see  us  when  we  reached  the 
royal  kraal,  and  I  immediately  sent  her  the  regulation 
presents.  A  little  while  later  Lochien  ushered  Tuys  and 
me  into  her  presence.  She  is  a  remarkable  woman  and 
has  a  very  sweet  and  charming  personality.  Tall  and 
splendidly  formed,  she  is  an  ideal  Swazi  queen,  just  as 
she  was  the  pick  of  the  Zulu  princesses  at  the  time  she 
became  the  royal  wife  of  Buno.  Her  head  is  large  and 
well  shaped,  and  she  has  an  active  brain.    With  educa- 

279 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

tion,  Tzaneen  would  have  been  a  leader  anywhere  in 
the  world. 

Her  greeting  to  us  was  gracious  and  cordial.  She 
asked  if  we  had  brought  our  wagons  and  camp  outfit, 
and  said  she  would  send  an  impi  to  get  them  and  bring 
them  to  Lebombo  from  Zombode  if  we  had  not.  This 
gave  me  a  clue  to  the  feeling  between  the  two  queens, 
because  I  knew  that  Labotsibeni  must  have  been  an- 
noyed when  she  learned  that  our  entire  outfit  had  left 
for  the  rival  camp.  After  I  had  assured  Tzaneen  that 
we  had  arrived  bag  and  baggage,  Lochien  introduced 
the  subject  of  our  mission  to  Swaziland.  In  this  he 
seemed  to  have  the  approval  of  Tzaneen,  who  listened 
closely  to  my  answers. 

I  told  them  that  I  intended  staying  in  the  country 
until  I  had  seen  Sebuza  crowned,  and  this  statement 
met  their  approval.  But  there  was  a  fly  in  the  ointment, 
I  found. 

"Queen  Tzaneen  is  the  rightful  ruler  of  Swaziland," 
Lochein  announced,  "because  she  is  the  royal  widow  of 
King  Buno.  She  is  the  mother  of  Prince  Sebuza,  who 
will  soon  be  king.  You  want  to  see  Sebuza  made  king 
and  wish  to  look  at  the  ceremonies  with  the  black  boxes 
on  legs  that  you  have  with  you.    Is  this  not  so?" 

Evidently  he  had  heard  about  the  cameras  we  had 
brought  with  us. 

"Yes,  that  is  so,"  I  assured  him.  "These  black  boxes 
make  all  things  live  again  so  that  everybody  may  see 

280 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

them,  and  we  want  to  show  all  people  that  Swaziland 
has  a  son  of  Buno  for  king." 

"Then,  Nkoos,  why  did  you  pay  Lomwazi  and  Queen 
Labotsibeni  all  the  money,  cows,  and  gin  for  the  right 
to  use  the  black  boxes?"  Lochien  asked. 

The  truth  was  out.  They  were  jealous  because 
Labotsibeni  and  Lomwazi  had  received  the  purchase 
price  of  the  picture  rights,  while  they  had  been  ignored. 
I  was  thinking  quickly  and  was  about  to  smooth  matters 
over,  when  Oom  Tuys  broke  in. 

"Mzaan  Bakoor  has  not  yet  paid  you  for  your  per- 
mission to  do  this  thing  he  desires,"  he  assured  them. 
"He  could  not  come  to  Lebombo  before,  but  now  he 
is  ready  to  pay  you  even  more  than  he  gave  Labotsibeni 
and  Lomwazi." 

"The  white  king  speaks  truly,"  I  added.  "Even  now 
I  have  in  my  wagons  more  precious  and  more  beautiful 
presents  than  I  gave  to  them.  These  presents  I  brought 
from  America,  across  the  great  water  of  which  you  have 
heard.  I  bought  them  in  the  greatest  city  of  the  world 
and  have  carried  them  here  for  you,  NkosikaasI" 

This  was  a  tall  statement,  but  I  knew  that  I  could 
make  good  on  it.  Tzaneen  was  much  interested  and 
her  curiosity  was  whetted.  We  dickered  a  little  more, 
and  I  agreed  to  pay  them  a  large  amount  of  gin  and 
a  certain  sum  of  money.  Then,  to  avoid  any  further 
demands,  I  ended  by  going  to  the  wagon  and  getting 
one  of  the  mysterious  packing-cases.  This  I  opened 
before  Queen  Tzaneen.     Very  slowly  I  began  taking 

281 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

from  it  quantities  of  the  five-and-ten-cent-store  jewelry. 
It  fascinated  her  beyond  words.  She  put  it  on,  draping 
the  tawdry  necklaces  about  her  full  throat  and  loading 
her  fingers  with  the  gaudy  rings.  She  was  completely 
won  over,  and  Lochien  also  was  deeply  impressed.  So 
peace  was  restored  on  the  subject  of  the  price  of  the 
picture  rights.  Now  the  road  was  clear  for  taking  the 
pictures,  that  is,  if  we  could  find  the  place  of  coronation 
of  the  savage  king. 

Tuys  motioned  to  me  to  leave  soon  after  the  jewelry 
episode,  and  we  went  back  to  our  wagons. 

"One  thing  at  a  time,  Owen,"  he  said.  "You  wanted 
to  ask  about  the  coronation,  I  know,  but  we  'd  better 
wait  until  to-morrow.  I  want  to  see  how  the  land  lies 
and  find  out  what  is  going  on  before  we  force  that  issue. 
To-morrow  we'll  see  Tzaneen  again  and  find  out  what 
she  plans  to  do  about  Sebuza." 

Lochien  soon  came  to  the  wagons  and  told  us  that  it 
was  the  queen's  pleasure  that  we  camp  a  few  hundred 
yards  from  Sebuza's  kraal,  which  adjoined  that  of  his 
mother.  The  spot  chosen  was  in  a  small  grove  of  tall 
trees  among  which  were  buried  indunas  who  had  died 
at  Lebombo  ever  since  the  village  was  founded.  This 
was  a  great  honor  to  us,  since  it  was  sacred  ground,  the 
most  sacred  in  the  land  with  the  exception  of  "The 
Caves"  near  Zombode,  where  only  kings  and  queens  are 
buried. 

That  night  I  became  greatly  worried  over  Dr.  Sug- 
den's  condition.    The  water  he  drank  in  the  Valley  of 

282 


DR.  O'NEIL  AND  CO-MPANIOXS  ARE  RECEIVED  BY  QUEEN  TZANEEN 

They  had  come  to  discuss  the  possibility  of  ceasing  hostilities.    As  is  the  custom,  she 

treated  them  to  tswala  and  drank  first  from  the  calabash  to  show  that  it  contained  no  poison 


DR.  O'NEIL,  QUEEN  TZANEEN,  DR.  SOGDEN,  AND  MR.  CRESPIXELL 
While  Sebuza,  the  crown  prince,  was  still  in  the  mountains  conforming  with  the  religious 
rites  on  attaining  his  manhood  Dr.  O'Neil  realized  that  both  the  British  Government  and  Queen 
Labotsibeni  were  antagonistic  to  Sebuza  and  wished  to  repudiate  his  right  to  the  throne 


iYit^^n^mm 


>«  m  03  V 

°'«c.S 
^■^'"^ 

OOO  t.  o 

W   cs.2  - 
M  2  V,  >" 

O   >>  7  w'9 
(-1  c  >S2'S 

^      K  _-!-]  Sfc) 
2    ■"«        -"* 

W   "2  0  03^ 

^  .S  ?  S  7j 


cU.5  P 


o35^ 
a^S  og 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Heaven  had  caused  fever  and  violent  dysentery,  and  he 
had  rapidly  grown  worse  during  the  last  forty-eight 
hours.  The  heat  during  the  day  was  severe,  and  it 
seemed  to  affect  him  so  that  he  was  hardly  able  to  recover 
at  night.  I  had  given  him  medicine  and  done  everjrthing 
I  could  for  him,  but  nothing  seemed  to  help  much.  It 
was  very  discouraging  to  have  him  ill,  because  his  un- 
failing optimism  and  ready  wit  had  helped  us  over 
many  a  hard  place. 

Next  day  Tuys  and  I  called  on  the  queen,  and  were 
received  as  cordially  as  before.  As  usual,  she  was  sur- 
rounded by  maids  and  other  women  of  her  kraal,  and 
it  was  interesting  to  note  how  affectionate  they  were 
toward  her.  She  is  the  best  liked  woman  in  Swaziland 
without  a  doubt,  and  this  is  strange,  since  it  is  seldom 
that  these  savage  women  display  any  affection  for  one 
another. 

We  asked  her  how  soon  Sebuza  would  be  made  king. 
Her  face  darkened  at  the  question  and  I  could  see  that 
it  touched  a  sore  spot. 

"Until  my  son,  Sebuza,  returns  from  the  mountains 
this  matter  is  in  the  hands  of  Queen  Labotsibeni,  whom 
the  government  recognizes  as  regent,"  she  answered. 
"But  when  the  prince  is  a  man  and  is  ready  for  the 
throne,  perhaps  there  will  be  a  change!" 

I  asked  her  what  she  meant,  but  she  refused  to  be 
drawn  out.  Instead,  she  told  us  about  her  last  attempt 
to  arrange  for  the  coronation. 

"Only  seven  days  ago,"  she  said,  "I  sent  men  to  see 

283 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

the  old  queen  and  ask  her  how  soon  she  would  be  ready 
to  surrender  the  throne.  She  refused  to  see  them,  so 
they  gave  theh*  message  to  Lomwazi.  He  told  them 
that  Labotsibeni  would  let  them  know  when  she  was 
ready,  and  then  dismissed  them." 

"When  they  left  the  royal  kraal  at  Zombode  many  of 
the  warriors  made  menacing  gestures  toward  them,  and 
they  came  back  glad  to  escape  with  their  lives.  That  is 
Labotsibeni's  answer  to  the  mother  of  the  rightful  king 
of  Swaziland  and  the  royal  widow  of  King  Buno!" 

She  was  very  indignant.  After  a  little  conversation, 
during  which  we  complimented  her,  as  was  proper,  we 
withdrew.  I  noticed  that  there  was  a  gin-bottle  in  the 
corner  of  the  royal  hut  and  reahzed  that  Tzaneen  was 
not  different  from  other  kaffir  royalty. 

Sugden  was  very  low  when  we  returned.  He  was 
the  finest  sort  of  patient,  however,  for  the  worse  became 
his  physical  condition,  the  more  determined  he  was  that 
he  would  live.  He  kept  murmuring,  "Don't  give  up  the 
ship!"  but  I  could  see  that  he  would  hardly  last  until 
morning. 

I  called  Crespinell  and  Rossman  into  my  tent  and 
explained  how  sick  the  doctor  was,  telling  them  that  I 
feared  he  did  not  have  a  chance.  His  cheery  way  of 
looking  at  things  had  fooled  them,  and  they  were 
shocked  when  I  told  them  that  I  did  not  expect  we  would 
have  him  with  us  much  longer. 

"I  Ve  done  everything  for  him  that  I  can,"  I  ex- 
plained, "but  I  can't  get  his  fever  down  or  stop  his 

284 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

dysentery.    He  is  so  weak  now  that  it  is  only  a  question 
of  hours  before  he  leaves  Swaziland  for  good. 

"There  is  something  I  want  you  fellows  to  do,  how- 
ever. I  shall  remain  with  him  all  night  and  will  call 
you  if  he  wants  to  make  a  will  or  say  anything.  We  've 
got  to  bury  him  like  a  white  man,  and  I  want  you  to 
knock  a  coffin  together.  Take  some  of  the  boards  from 
the  packing-cases  and  the  big  wagon  and  fix  a  decent 
sort  of  box.  Don't  do  any  hammering  where  he  might 
hear  you,  because  he  's  keyed  up  and  might  suspect 
what  you  were  doing." 

A  few  minutes  later  I  saw  them  sneaking  off  among 
the  trees,  with  several  of  the  black  boys  loaded  down 
with  boards.  We  were  all  blue  over  Sugden's  illness 
and  the  thought  that  he  was  dying  cast  a  gloom  over  the 
party  that  nothing  could  lift. 

That  was  a  bad  night.  Sugden  seemed  to  get  weaker 
and  weaker,  and  soon  I  was  keeping  him  alive  with 
brandy.  Tuys  and  I  sat  beside  him  in  turn,  and  the  old 
Boer  was  as  distressed  as  the  rest  of  us. 

"He  is  such  a  fighting  devil,"  he  said  in  a  whisper, 
when  I  came  to  relieve  him  shortly  before  dawn.  "A 
few  moments  ago  he  opened  his  eyes  and  croaked  that 
he  was  going  back  to  New  York  when  this  expedition 
was  over  and  have  *one  hell  of  a  time.'  I  told  him  that 
I  'd  go  with  him,  and  he  began  to  tell  me  what  we  'd  do. 
Right  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence  he  fainted  through 
weakness.  When  I  brought  hun  to  with  brandy,  he 
opened  his  eyes  and  smiled  at  me  I" 

285 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Dawn  found  Sugden  still  hanging  on.  I  marveled  at 
the  vitality  of  the  man.  His  body  was  wasted  to  a  mere 
shell,  but  his  courage  burned  bright  and  undiminished. 
Shortly  after  sun-up  I  realized  that  he  was  likely  to 
live  another  day,  but  that  seemed  the  most  we  could 
hope  for. 

While  I  was  at  breakfast  an  induna  came  from 
Lochien  with  word  that  Sebuza  had  left  the  mountains 
and  was  on  his  way  to  Lebombo.  This  was  exciting 
news,  and  I  went  over  to  the  royal  kraal  to  get  details. 
Lochien  told  me  that  the  sanctification  ceremonies  were 
over  and  that  the  crown  prince  was  to  arrive  that 
morning. 

"We  are  almost  afraid  to  see  him,  Nkoos,"  he  said. 
"He  is  now  ready  for  the  coronation  and  will  expect 
us  to  have  all  things  waiting  for  him." 

I  could  see  that  Tzaneen  and  her  trusted  vizier  were 
in  a  nervous  condition.  Sebuza  was  a  reckless,  impatient 
young  savage  and  would  be  much  put  out  at  any  delay. 
The  royal  kraal  was  in  a  ferment  of  excitement,  and 
the  warriors  in  Sebuza's  kraal  were  chanting  and  danc- 
ing in  preparation  for  the  welcome  to  their  commander. 

I  returned  to  the  wagons,  realizing  that,  being  a  white 
man  and  an  outsider,  I  was  not  wanted  at  the  royal 
kraal  when  Sebuza  arrived.  I  would  see  him  when  he 
sent  for  me,  but  until  then  I  must  remain  quiet  and 
control  my  impatience. 

Shortly  before  noon  I  saw  the  impis  of  both  Tzaneen 
and  Sebuza  forming  in  lines  outside  the  kraals.    They 

286 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

were  dressed  in  their  most  gorgeous  costumes.  The  in- 
dunas  and  leaders  wore  the  leopardskin  cloaks,  and  all 
had  on  their  great  plumed  headdresses.  I  felt  that 
Sebuza  must  be  close  at  hand,  and  it  was  not  more  than 
fifteen  minutes  before  both  impis  began  to  dance.  This 
they  continued  for  a  short  time,  and  then  came  to  a 
sudden  stop.  There  was  utter  silence  and  at  length  I 
saw  the  crown  prince  striding  down  the  road,  followed 
by  at  least  a  dozen  witch-doctors.  These  halted  some 
distance  behind. 

Sebuza  came  to  a  stop  in  front  of  his  impi  and  raised 
his  hands.  Instantly  the  thousand  warriors  raised  their 
shields  and  war-clubs  above  their  heads  and  the  deep- 
throated  shout  "Nkoos!"  rang  out.  This  was  followed 
by  the  thunder  of  their  feet  and  then  the  air  was  split 
by  the  shrill  whistle.  Three  times  they  gave  the  royal 
salute,  Sebuza  standing  like  a  statue. 

Then,  strutting  like  a  turkey-cock,  the  young  prince 
passed  through  his  men  into  his  kraal.  The  witch- 
doctors followed,  and  then  the  indunas  went  in.  Finally 
his  warriors  broke  ranks  and  this  concluded  the  home- 
coming of  the  son  of  Buno. 

The  impi  of  Tzaneen  still  remained  on  duty  in  front 
of  the  royal  kraal,  and  I  waited  to  see  what  they  would 
do.  In  a  little  while  I  saw  Lochien  go  into  the  prince's 
kraal,  and  shortly  after  he  and  Sebuza  came  put  to- 
gether. Sebuza  pointed  to  our  wagons,  and  I  could  see 
Lochien  telling  him  about  us.  Then  they  went  to  the 
queen's  kraal  and  her  warriors  gave  Sebuza  the  royal 

287 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

salute,  which  he  received  in  the  same  manner  as  before, 
standing  motionless  before  them. 

After  Sebuza  had  entered  the  kraal  the  impi  dis- 
persed. I  returned  to  Sugden's  side,  to  find  him  wide 
awake  and  talking  faintly.  He  seemed  weaker  than 
before,  and  I  expected  he  would  cease  speaking  forever 
any  moment.  Crespinell  and  Rossman  were  with  him, 
and  he  was  trying  to  tell  them  some  of  the  stories  of 
the  Far  North  which  he  had  seen  acted  out  when  he  was 
a  surgeon  in  the  Northwest  Mounted  Police.  His  grip 
on  life  was  extraordinary.  Here  he  was  living  over  in 
spirit  the  wild  days  in  the  frozen  North,  while  his  body 
was  practically  dead  and  his  coffin  lay  behind  the  wagon  I 

I  was  standing  thus,  quite  overcome  by  the  situation, 
when  Sibijaan  pulled  my  sleeve. 

"Ou  Baas,  Lochien  is  here  and  wants  to  talk  to  you," 
he  said.    "He  has  a  message  from  the  queen." 

Outside  I  found  the  induna  dressed  up  in  his  war 
costume  and  carrying  his  arms.  He  greeted  me  very 
formally  and  then  told  me  that  Tzaneen  wished  me  to 
attend  a  conference  between  Sebuza  and  herself,  asking 
me  to  bring  Oom  Tuys  along.  After  delivering  his 
message  Lochien  unbent  and  we  had  a  few  words  to- 
gether concerning  Sebuza.  He  informed  me  that  the 
prince  was  much  annoyed  that  his  throne  was  not  ready 
and  was  eager  to  pay  an  armed  visit  to  Labotsibeni. 

Tuys  and  I  were  received  with  royal  honors  when  we 
reached  the  queen's  kraal.  There  was  the  usual  delay 
in  observing  the  proper  f  ormahties,  and  then  we  entered 

288 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

the  royal  hut,  to  find  Sebuza  sitting  by  his  mother. 
Tzaneen  was  as  cordial  as  usual  and  seemed  proud  to 
have  the  future  king  by  her  side. 

Sebuza,  whom  Tuys  told  me  later  was  the  perfect 
picture  of  Buno  in  his  youth,  was  haughty  and  seemed 
suffering  acutely  from  a  sense  of  his  own  importance. 
He  was  wearing  a  peculiar  headdress  and  several  strings 
of  the  five-and-ten-cent  store  beads  I  had  given  his 
mother. 

Since  we  were  in  the  presence  of  royalty,  it  was  not 
fitting  that  we  begin  conversation,  except  to  receive  and 
give  the  usual  greetings.  Tzaneen  started  the  ball 
rolling. 

"My  noble  son,"  she  said,  turning  to  the  prince,  "these 
are  the  white  men  who  were  the  friends  of  your  father, 
the  great  King  Buno.  The  big  one  with  a  beard  is 
Oom  Tuys,  whom  Buno  called  'The  White  King  of 
Swaziland'  and  whom  your  father  made  the  guide  and 
guardian  of  our  people  when  he  died.  The  other,  he 
of  the  shaven  face,  is  Mzaan  Bakoor,  who  makes  won- 
derful magic  with  little  black  boxes  on  thin  legs.  The 
white  men  are  our  friends  and  come  to  Lebombo  to  assist 
in  your  coronation." 

During  this  introduction  Sebuza  regarded  us  keenly, 
and  his  scrutiny  seemed  to  satisfy  him.  When  Tzaneen 
had  finished  Oom  Tuys  made  a  little  speech. 

"Sebuza,  son  of  Buno  and  of  Tzaneen,  rightful  Queen 
of  Swaziland,"  he  said  impressively,  "your  father  at  his 
death  made  me  your  guardian,  and  I  promised  him  that 

289 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

I  would  watch  over  and  protect  you.  I  am  'The  White 
King  of  Swaziland'  and  the  government  holds  me  re- 
sponsible for  all  that  takes  place  here.  With  my  nephew, 
Mzaan  Bakoor,  I  have  come  to  see  you  placed  on  the 
throne  of  your  father.  We  have  pledged  ourselves 
to  assist  you  in  every  way,  except  to  provoke  war.  We 
shall  remain  here  until  you  have  been  made  king." 

Tuys  said  much  more  than  this,  but  what  I  have  trans- 
lated is  about  the  sense  of  all  of  it.  Sebuza  thawed 
quickly,  once  he  had  found  out  what  we  were  in  Le- 
bombo  for,  and  then  we  all  had  a  pleasant  talk.  He 
asked  innumerable  questions  and  was  much  interested 
in  what  had  happened  at  Zombode. 

His  answer  to  one  of  my  questions  was  very  typical. 
I  had  asked  him  how  many  people  were  his  subjects  in 
Swaziland.  He  thought  for  a  moment,  and  then  an- 
swered, "Mzaan  Bakoor,  can  you  count  the  blades  of 
grass  in  a  field?" 

The  interview  ended  immediately  after  we  informed 
Sebuza  that  we  had  presents  for  him  in  our  wagons. 
He  said  that  he  wanted  to  see  our  outfit  and  would  go 
with  us,  and  a  few  moments  later  we  all  left  for  the 
camp. 

Several  indunas  accompanied  us,  and  the  stately  head 
witch-doctor,  L'Tunga,  also  went  with  us.  I  regarded 
this  as  rather  impertinent,  but  was  very  glad  of  his 
presence  shortly. 

Crespinell  and  Rossman  were  much  interested  in  Se- 
buza and  were  only  too  willing  to  gratify  his  curiosity 

290 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

concerning  the  "little  black  magic  boxes  on  thin  legs." 
They  took  a  number  of  pictures  of  him,  some  of  which 
filled  him  with  awe  when  they  were  given  to  him  next 
day.  I  produced  a  box  of  the  "jewelry"  and  presented 
it  to  him  with  a  great  flourish.  He  was  fairly  over- 
come by  its  gorgeousness.  Soon  he  had  bedecked  him- 
self much  after  the  fashion  of  a  Christmas  tree  and 
strutted  about  like  a  peacock.  Tuys  told  me  to  "go 
slow  with  the  gin,"  so  I  only  gave  him  a  few  bottles. 
Strange  as  it  may  appear,  Sebuza  was  not  enthusiastic 
about  the  liquor,  and  later  I  found  that  L'Tunga  had 
taught  him  that  it  was  a  kind  of  "white  man's  poison." 


291 


CHAPTER  XVII 

L'Tunga's  "muti"  cures  the  sick  white  man — Sebuza  chooses  his  wives — I 
receive  a  message  from  His  Majesty's  High  Commissioner  for  Swazi- 
land— A  flying  trip  to  Mbabane — The  Government  refuses  sanction  to 
Sebuza's  coronation — How  witch-doctors  smoke  dagga  weed. 

SUGDEN  was  wide  awake  when  we  reached  the 
camp  and  despite  his  condition  was  overcome  with 
curiosity.  He  could  see  nothing,  being  shut  in  by  the 
tent-walls,  and  was  too  weak  to  get  up  and  look  out. 
Suddenly,  while  we  were  watching  Sebuza  enjoy  his 
ornaments,  I  saw  the  side  of  the  tent  being  feebly 
punched  from  within.  I  raised  the  flap,  and  there  was 
Sugden  regarding  us  with  his  fever-bright  eyes.  He 
hated  to  be  left  out  of  the  party  and  had  signaled  for  me 
to  count  him  in.  I  went  to  him,  but  my  heart  sank.  He 
was  the  sickest  man  I  have  ever  seen.  Except  for  his 
blazing  eyes,  he  had  all  the  look  of  a  dead  man. 

Every  one  looked  at  us,  and  a  second  later  L'Tunga 
leaned  over  me  and  asked  what  was  the  matter  with 
the  "sick  white  man."  I  held  Sugden's  poor  head  in  my 
arms  as  I  told  him.  The  witch-doctor  nodded  and  then 
straightened  up. 

"Nkoos,  I  will  cure  him!"  he  said.  "I  will  make  a 
magic  that  will  make  him  well.  I  go,  but  I  will  come 
back  soon  and  bring  the  muti." 

He  left,  and  I  laid  Sugden  down  and  pulled  the  tent 

292 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

flap.  He  was  exhausted  by  his  effort  to  join  the  party 
and  was  nodding  with  the  sleep  that  was  nigh  unto 
death. 

Now  I  was  very  curious  about  the  "muti"  of  the 
witch-doctor.  I  knew  that  their  rites  and  rituals  were 
all  humbug  dressed  up  in  feathers,  but  every  now  and 
then  they  did  something  that  was  quite  amazing.  It  was 
certain  that  they  knew  things  about  the  herbs  of  their 
country  that  we  white  men  did  not,  and  I  never  felt 
sure  that  they  were  the  fakirs  we  thought  them  to  be. 

In  a  few  minutes  L'Tunga  returned,  and  this  time  he 
carried  a  wand  tipped  with  feathers.  He  stood  for  a 
moment  regarding  us,  and  then  went  to  the  side  of  the 
tent  and  drew  up  the  flap,  showing  poor  old  Sugden 
asleep  but  barely  alive.  Then  L'Tunga  motioned  me 
to  help  him  move  the  cot  out  into  the  sunlight. 

Carefully,  for  this  savage  was  as  gentle  as  a  woman, 
we  placed  Sugden  with  his  head  facing  the  sun,  and  then 
L'Tunga  got  busy.  We  stood  back  to  give  him  room, 
and  he  certainly  needed  it.  He  started  to  dance  and 
chant,  circling  the  sick  bed  and  waving  his  wand  round 
and  round.  I  could  not  understand  what  he  chanted, 
but  it  seemed  to  be  something  about  it  being  time  for 
the  "devil"  to  leave  the  sick  white  man,  since  he, 
L'Tunga,  had  come. 

This  ceremony  must  have  lasted  fully  fifteen  minutes, 
and  Sugden  slept  through  it  all.  I  watched  his  breath- 
ing, for  I  was  afraid  that  he  would  not  live.  The  show 
ended  with  the  witch-doctor  picking  up  a  handful  of 

293 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

dust  and  holding  it  to  Sugden's  nostrils.  After  a  moment 
he  threw  the  dust  to  the  winds  and  then  drew  from  his 
loin-cloth  a  small  package  wrapped  in  skin.  This  he 
undid,  and  then  asked  for  "emantzi,  emantzi,"  meaning 
water.  Crespinell  brought  him  a  little  mug  full  of  it, 
and  he  poured  all  but  a  few  tablespoonfuls  on  the 
ground.  Then  he  took  some  of  the  contents  of  the  little 
package  and  mixed  it  with  the  water  in  the  mug. 

I  had  been  thinking  rapidly.  He  could  not  hurt 
Sugden,  since  the  white  man  was  beyond  all  human 
aid,  and  was  only  living  through  sheer  will  power. 
There  was  a  faint  chance  that  he  might  do  him  good, 
and  I  made  up  my  mind  to  let  the  witch-doctor  alone. 

A  moment  later  L'Tunga  had  forced  Sugden  to  drink 
the  contents  of  the  mug.  Immediately  he  dropped  off 
to  sleep,  as  though  drugged.  After  watching  him  a 
moment  L'Tunga  turned  to  me  and  said: 

"At  sunrise  to-morrow  I  will  come  and  give  him 
more  muti.    In  three  or  four  days  he  will  be  well!" 

Then,  with  all  the  dignity  of  a  great  civilized  special- 
ist, he  shouldered  his  magic  wand  and  withdrew. 

Sebuza  and  the  rest  of  us  had  watched  his  operations 
with  great  interest,  and  the  young  prince  left  shortly 
after,  his  indunas  carrying  the  "jewelry"  and  gin. 

We  were  all  curious  to  see  the  effect  of  the  witch- 
doctor's prescription,  and  had  quite  an  argument  about 
it.  I  found  that  Tuys  was  sure  that  it  would  cure  Sug- 
den, and  both  Crespinell  and  Rossman  were  inclined 
to  agree  with  him.    I  remained  skeptical  and  sent  for 

294 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Sibijaan  to  ask  him  what  he  thought.  I  knew  that  my 
old  playmate  was  in  touch  with  many  things  that  a 
white  man  could  not  know  and  I  asked  him  about  the 
"muti"  that  L'Tunga  had  given  Sugden. 

"Ou  Baas,  it  is  a  magic  leaf,"  he  told  me,  "and  only 
the  head  witch-doctor  knows  where  it  grows.  They  say 
it  is  found  in  only  one  place,  and  that  is  near  Sheba's 
Breasts.  He  gets  it  when  the  moon  dies,  and  always 
goes  alone.  But  it  will  cure  'Mlung  Emantzi  Eenui. 
The  'muti'  is  only  for  royalty  and  some  of  the  great  in- 
dunas.  L'Tunga  would  not  give  it  to  the  common 
people." 

He  was  so  certain  that  the  medicine  would  save  Sug- 
den that  I  began  to  find  myself  half -believing  that  it 
would.  That  night  I  sat  by  the  latter's  bedside  for  many 
hours.  He  never  stirred.  All  night  long  he  slept  as 
though  heavily  drugged,  never  once  making  a  move. 
Next  morning  the  fever  had  much  abated  and  his  pulse 
was  nearly  normal.  He  did  not  awake,  however,  and 
when  L'Tunga  arrived  to  give  him  another  dose,  he  only 
came  to  enough  to  swallow  it.  I  noted,  though,  that 
the  dysentery  had  stopped. 

Four  days  later  Sugden  was  well.  He  was  weak  as  a 
cat,  but  food  soon  remedied  that,  and  within  ten  days 
he  was  on  the  job  and  as  cheerful  as  ever.  I  made  up 
my  mind  from  that  time  on  not  to  scoff  at  witch-doctors. 
I  tried  to  get  L'Tunga  to  give  me  a  little  of  his  "muti," 
but  this  he  resolutely  refused  to  do,  even  when  I  offered 
to  buy  it  with  all  sorts  of  things  dear  to  the  savage  heart. 

295 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Some  day  I  am  going  to  get  some  of  that  "muti"  and 
have  it  analyzed ;  it  may  be  a  drug  that  will  be  of  value 
to  all  of  us  who  live  in  that  section  of  South  Africa. 

During  Sugden's  recuperation  Tuys  and  I  had  visited 
the  royal  kraal  every  day  and  had  always  had  pleasant 
talks  with  both  Sebuza  and  his  mother.  But  we  did  not 
succeed  in  getting  any  nearer  to  the  coronation.  The 
queen  was  entirely  at  a  loss  what  to  do  and  Sebuza  kept 
growing  more  impatient  every  day.  As  he  was  a  man 
now,  he  felt  entitled  to  start  housekeeping,  and  his 
mother  set  about  procuring  wives  for  him.  Lochien  as- 
sisted in  this  delicate  operation,  and  it  was  rather  an 
interesting  event.  The  Swazis  follow  about  the  same 
procedure  in  this  business  as  their  civilized  white  breth- 
ren. The  only  difference  is  that  the  Swazi  method  does 
not  employ  so  much  camouflage. 

The  fact  that  Sebuza  had  reached  manhood  and  would 
soon  become  king  was  known  throughout  practically 
all  the  savage  tribes  of  South  Africa,  though  it  naturally 
was  of  paramount  interest  in  his  own  country.  All  the 
indunas  and  his  relations,  such  as  Umzulek,  Debeseem- 
bie,  Vilakazi,  and  others,  knew  that  he  would  have  to 
have  wives.  Their  children  were  logical  candidates  for 
this  honor,  so  that  there  were  many  conferences  at  Le- 
bombo  between  Tzaneen  and  those  who  had  daughters 
to  sell. 

Now  the  Swazi,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  sells 
his  women.  Women  are  the  "pound  sterling"  among  all 
the  savage  tribes,  and  the  unit  of  value  is  five  cows  for 

296 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

an  average  maid  who  is  young,  sound  in  limb  and  wind, 
and  trained  to  the  primitive  duties  of  her  race.  These 
consist  chiefly  in  ability  to  do  a  decent  day's  work  in 
the  fields,  the  making  of  tswala,  and  the  cleaning  of  a 
hut  or  kraal.  Of  course  the  care  of  children  is  con- 
sidered important. 

A  Swazi's  wealth  is  measured  by  the  number  of  wives 
he  has.  The  number  of  his  cows  and  other  livestock  is 
secondary.  For  instance,  Umzulek  is  regarded  as  a 
millionaire  because  he  has  sixty  wives  and  more  than 
two  hundred  and  forty  children.  The  average  Swazi 
induna  has  five  or  more  wives,  and  some  have  many 
more. 

The  price  of  a  woman  depends  greatly  on  her  birth 
and  beauty.  All  the  Swazi  women  have  fine  bodies,  and 
many  are  very  handsome,  according  to  the  native  stand- 
ard. Princesses  sell  for  as  much  as  fifty  cows  apiece, 
and  a  wife  is  always  proud  if  she  brings  more  than  the 
market  price.  In  fact,  her  importance  as  a  wife  is 
usually  based  on  her  purchase  price. 

When  the  time  arrived  for  Sebuza  to  choose  some 
wives,  there  were  quite  a  number  awaiting  his  inspection. 
The  morning  that  he  looked  them  over  they  were  as- 
sembled in  the  "Sacred  Bathing  Pool,"  a  sort  of  mar- 
ket-place. Their  owners,  mostly  parents,  stood  beside 
the  crown  prince  and  extolled  the  virtues  of  their  off- 
spring. The  maidens  were  lined  up  along  the  banks 
of  the  pool  and  the  prince  examined  them  most  minutely. 

It  was  almost  pathetic  to  see  how  these  dusky  belles 

297 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

bore  up  under  his  inspection.  Each  looked  appealingly 
at  Sebuza,  much  after  the  fashion  of  a  dog  that  hopes 
to  be  petted,  and  ahnost  quivered  with  the  hope  that 
she  would  be  selected.  The  thought  came  to  me  that 
the  rejected  ones  must  face  a  hard  life  when  they  were 
brought  back  to  their  home  kraals. 

Sebuza  chose  five  of  the  girls,  and  they  were  straight- 
way sent  to  his  kraal.  The  rejected  ones  were  imme- 
diately clothed  and  their  owners  took  them  away.  Later 
in  the  day  Lochien  told  me  that  all  the  girls  selected  by 
Sebuza  were  exceptionally  high  caste  and  that  between 
forty  and  fifty  cows  had  been  paid  for  each. 

My  companions  were  sadly  disappointed  over  Se- 
buza's  wholesale  marriage.  They  had  expected  a  wild 
ceremony  and  much  savage  celebration,  but  I  explained 
to  them  that  the  Swazis  did  not  go  in  for  that  sort  of 
thing.  There  are  no  marriage  ceremonies  whatever — 
the  man  pays  for  his  wife  and  she  belongs  to  him  from 
that  hour  until  he  dies.  He  may  accumulate  other 
wives,  and  this  custom  is  so  old  that  all  the  wives  live 
together  in  peace,  such  a  thing  as  jealousy  of  the  white 
kind  being  unknown.  From  what  I  have  seen  of  the 
toilsome  lives  of  these  wives,  it  would  seem  to  me  that 
their  contentment  is  based  on  the  old  saw  which  sagely 
observes  that  "misery  loves  company."  Another  advan- 
tage of  plural  wives  is  that  each  additional  wife  lessens 
the  labors  of  the  others. 

Although  there  are  no  marriage  rites  beyond  pay- 
ment for  the  wife,  there  are  very  strict  customs  in  re- 

298 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

gard  to  widows.  If  the  deceased  husband  is  an  induna 
of  importance  or  a  connection  of  the  royal  family,  it 
is  customary  for  the  king  to  take  his  pick  of  the  widows. 
If,  however,  he  has  no  interest  in  them,  the  nearest  male 
relation  who  can  afford  to  keep  them  inherits  as  many 
as  he  wishes.  Of  course,  when  a  husband  dies  all  his 
wives  shave  their  heads  in  token  of  mourning.  As  they 
have  trained  their  hair  to  grow  in  a  sort  of  pyramid, 
the  hair  is  shaved  clean  up  to  this  structure.  Daughters 
of  the  dead  man  have  their  hair  shaved  right  off ;  if  they 
are  already  wives,  this  does  not  apply,  since  the  claim 
of  the  husband  is  greater  than  that  of  any  other  relative. 

We  did  not  pay  our  usual  visit  to  Tzaneen  the  day 
Sebuza  married  his  first  installment  of  wives.  Instead, 
Tuys  and  I  remained  in  camp  planning  some  way  to 
accomplish  our  mission  and  my  companions  made  good 
their  threat  to  learn  something  first-hand  about  Swazi 
life. 

Next  morning  trouble  of  another  kind  occurred.  A 
government  messenger  arrived  with  a  communication 
for  me.  He  had  located  me  at  Zombode,  where  they  told 
him  that  I  had  gone  on  to  Lebombo.  This  messenger 
was  a  Swazi  induna  with  six  warriors,  and  he  carried 
himself  with  a  good  deal  of  swank.  Evidently  he  was 
impressed  with  his  importance.  I  know  he  snubbed 
Sibijaan,  and  my  boy  was  breathing  fire  when  he  came 
to  announce  this  arrival. 

The  messenger  waited  for  me  in  front  of  the  tent, 
with  his  warriors  drawn  up  behind  him.     It  was  quite 

299 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

a  military  turnout,  and  he  saluted  me  with  gravity  and 
impressiveness.  Across  one  shoulder  he  had  a  small 
despatch-case  on  which  were  the  arms  of  Great  Britain 
in  well-polished  brass.  From  this  he  took  an  official 
looking  envelope  and  handed  it  to  me  with  a  flourish. 

It  was  a  communication  from  His  Majesty's  High 
Commissioner  for  Swaziland,  and  it  "begged  most  re- 
spectfully to  call  to  your  attention"  the  fact  that  I  had 
passed  through  Mbabane  without  acquainting  the  gov- 
ernment officials  with  the  details  of  my  expedition  into 
British  territory.  At  once  I  realized  my  mistake,  and 
could  have  kicked  myself  for  not  calling  on  the  Com- 
missioner and  telling  him  about  my  project.  I  knew 
how  these  British  officials  work.  First  they  are  puncti- 
liously polite  and  request  information.  If  they  do  not 
get  it  speedily,  they  remain  polite  but  make  certain  defi- 
nite demands.  If  still  unsatisfied,  they  become  annoyed 
in  a  polite  manner  and  take  "proper  measures."  These 
latter  oftentimes  consist  of  a  "flying  column,"  which 
makes  it  decidedly  uncomfortable  for  the  object  of  their 
well-bred  attentions. 

I  read  the  missive  from  the  Commissioner  and  for  a 
moment  intended  replying  to  it.  Then  I  realized  that 
any  reply  would  seem  impolite  and  possibly  evasive, 
so  I  decided  to  make  a  quick  trip  to  Mbabane  and  make 
the  laggard  call  on  the  Honorable  ^Ir.  Honey.  I  gave 
directions  that  the  messenger  and  his  men  should  be 
fed,  and  then  had  Sibijaan  inspan  the  six  mules  and 
prepare  the  wagonette  for  the  trip. 

300 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Oom  Tuys  was  missing  and  I  suspected  that  he  had 
gone  to  the  royal  kraal.  I  went  over  there  and  found 
him  sitting  with  Lochien  outside  the  royal  hut.  The 
queen  was  asleep  inside  and  several  of  her  maids  were 
busily  engaged  in  hairdressing,  a  most  important  func- 
tion among  high  class  Swazi  women. 

I  told  Tuys  what  I  intended  doing  and  he  agreed 
that  it  was  the  right  and  proper  thing.  One  caution  he 
gave  me,  however. 

"Forget  I  am  here,  Owen,"  he  admonished.  "The 
British  don't  like  it,  as  you  know.  If  Honey  asks  about 
me,  you  will  have  to  lie.    I  am  not  here!" 

We  talked  in  Dutch,  and  he  told  me  that  he  would 
keep  the  kettle  boiling  while  I  was  away  and  try  to 
gain  a  step  or  two  in  my  absence.  He  seemed  quite 
happy  and  enjoying  himself  with  Lochien,  so  I  left 
him  after  he  had  reminded  me  that  it  would  be  a  good 
thing  to  get  the  messenger  and  his  men  out  of  the  camp 
as  soon  as  possible. 

We  all  started  together  for  [Mbabane.  I  had  prac- 
tically nothing  in  the  wagonette  and  the  mules  were  in 
fine  fettle  after  their  long  rest.  Sibijaan  drove,  and 
it  was  not  long  before  we  left  the  messenger  and  his 
escort  far  behind.  The  Valley  of  Heaven  was  as  beau- 
tiful as  ever  and  the  trip  a  pleasant  one.  We  arrived 
at  Mbabane  on  the  evening  of  the  second  day,  having 
made  better  than  twenty  miles  a  day. 

I  stopped  at  the  little  hotel  and  the  mules  were  turned 
into  the  kraal  of  the  livery-stable  across  the  way.    After 

301 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

washing  the  travel  stains  away,  I  reported  to  the  Com- 
missioner's office.  Owing  to  the  midday  rest,  or  siesta, 
he  usually  remained  at  his  desk  until  about  seven  o'clock, 
and  I  caught  him  shortly  before  he  closed  up  shop. 

The  interview  was  typical  of  governmental  business 
as  conducted  by  such  officials.  ]My  name  was  taken  in 
by  his  clerk  and  shortly  after  I  entered  the  comfortable 
office  with  its  large  screened  windows.  Mr.  Commis- 
sioner Honey  sat  at  his  English  desk  writing  with  a 
scratchy  pen.    After  a  moment  he  looked  up. 

"Well,  Doctor  O'Neil?"  he  said  with  a  rising  in- 
flection. 

It  was  just  as  though  he  had  reminded  me  that  I  was 
guilty  and  was  waiting  to  hear  me  plead.  There  were  a 
dozen  other  ^meanings,  all  -unpleasant,  in  that  little 
word  "well."  I  never  reahzed  before  that  one  mono- 
syllable could  mean  so  much.  I  knew  that  he  had  me 
right,  as  it  were,  and  I  decided  to  act  as  innocent  as 
possible. 

"Mr.  Commissioner,  I  received  your  letter,"  I  said, 
"and  I  considered  it  would  be  best  and  more  polite  to 
reply  to  it  in  person  than  to  send  an  answer  by  your 
messenger." 

"Very  good,  Doctor,  very  good,"  he  answered.  "Now 
will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  tell  me  what  you  are  doing  at 
Zombode?" 

I  did  so.  I  told  him  all  about  the  plan  to  take  pic- 
tures of  the  coronation  of  Sebuza  and  how  I  was  meeting 
obstacles  which  appeared  insuperable.    I  told  him  that 

302 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

I  had  moved  my  outfit  to  Lebombo  and  gave  him  satis- 
factory reasons  for  the  change.  I  could  see  that  my 
candor  impressed  him  favorably.  There  was  no  reason 
why  it  should  not.  What  I  told  him  was  the  truth.  Of 
course  I  related  how  L'Tunga  had  saved  Dr.  Sugden's 
life,  and  this  impressed  him  deeply.  He  let  me  talk  for 
some  twenty  minutes,  and  then  leaned  back  in  his  chair 
and  gave  me  some  advice. 

"If  I  were  you,  Doctor,"  he  said,  "I  would  not  waste 
more  time  waiting  for  Sebuza's  coronation.  It  is  my 
opinion  that  this  will  not  take  place  for  some  time,  pos- 
sibly a  year  or  so.  You  may  not  know  it,  but  the  young 
gentleman  is  not  in  the  best  graces  of  His  Majesty's 
Government  and  it  may  mean  a  long  delay  before  official 
permission  is  granted  for  him  to  reign. 

"Your  expedition  is  costing  you  a  lot  of  money  and  it 
seems  a  shame  for  you  to  remain  in  Swaziland  with  no 
chance  of  fulfilling  your  mission.  If  you  will  take  my 
advice,  you  will  return  to  Ermelo  and  wait  until  I  send 
you  word  that  the  coronation  has  received  the  official 
sanction  of  our  government." 

This  was  a  blow  to  my  hopes.  I  had  no  idea  that 
Sebuza  would  not  be  recognized  by  the  authorities  and 
it  began  to  look  as  though  my  expedition  were  a  wild 
goose  chase  after  all.  We  talked  a  little  while  longer, 
but  I  was  not  able  to  find  any  specific  reason  for  the  gov- 
ernment's dislike  of  Sebuza.  Apparently  there  was  a 
general  feeling  that  he  would  try  to  follow  in  the  foot- 
steps of  his  father,  Buno  the  Terrible,  and  the  govern- 

303 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

ment  regarded  Swaziland  as  a  sleeping  dog  that  it  would 
be  unwise  to  awaken. 

Our  talk  ended  when  Mr.  Honey  rose  to  his  feet 
with  the  remark,  ''Of  course  you  are  dining  with  me  to- 
night?" 

I  assured  him  that  I  would  be  most  pleased,  and  he 
told  me  that  eight  o'clock  was  the  hour.  This  barely 
gave  me  time  to  get  back  to  my  hotel  and  dress,  but  I 
made  it.  I  got  into  my  dinner-coat  and  fresh  linen 
while  I  cursed  the  habits  of  the  English.  They  will 
take  civilization — particularly  of  the  "dinner"  kind — 
with  them  no  matter  where  they  go! 

Dinner  proved  a  delightful  affair.  There  were  half 
a  dozen  people  there,  including  several  of  the  minor  offi- 
cials and  their  wives.  It  was  a  gay  party  and  the  food 
was  excellent,  being  served  in  London  fashion  by  several 
silent-footed  Indians.  The  thought  came  to  me  that 
British  officials  certainly  "do  themselves  well."  We 
talked  about  many  things,  none  of  them  concerning 
Swaziland  or  its  coronations,  and  it  was  a  pleasure  to 
have  my  worries  banished  for  a  few  hours. 

After  dinner  we  played  "bridge,"  and  then  I  went 
back  to  my  hotel  feeling  as  if  I  had  stepped  out  of  an 
English  drawing-room  into  the  heart  of  Swaziland.  At 
his  door  the  Commissioner  shook  hands  and  gave  me  a 
parting  word. 

"Better  come  back  and  avoid  trouble.  Doctor,"  he  said. 
"There  is  n't  likely  to  be  any  coronation  this  year  and 
you  always  run  the  change  of  getting  into  a  fight.    If 

304 


m 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

you  stay,  be  careful!  His  Majesty's  Government  is 
interested  in  the  peace  of  Swaziland.  Goodnight  and 
cheerio!" 

I  was  rather  blue  that  night  as  I  went  to  sleep.  It 
looked  as  though  my  voyages,  privations,  and  trouble 
had  all  been  for  nothing. 

Next  morning  Sibijaan  and  I  set  off  bright  and  early. 
He  told  me  that  a  kaffir  had  chummed  with  him  at  the 
kraal  and  had  enquired  whether  Oom  Tuys  was  with 
my  expedition.  Sibijaan  had  lied,  as  he  knew  he  must, 
and  then  I  understood  why  the  Commissioner  had  care- 
fully refrained  from  making  me  perjure  myself.  My 
only  hope  was  that  Sibijaan  had  been  a  convincing  liar. 
Otherwise,  the  fact  that  Tuys  was  with  me  would  make 
the  Commissioner  watchful  of  my  activities. 

On  the  way  back  through  the  Valley  of  Heaven  I 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  something  had  to  be  done, 
and  done  quickly,  if  Sebuza  was  to  be  made  king.  What 
this  something  was,  however,  I  only  had  a  vague  idea. 
I  wanted  to  talk  it  over  with  Tuys  before  taking  any 
action,  since  his  help  would  be  necessary. 

My  uncle  was  waiting  for  me  when  I  reached  camp 
and  seemed  anxious  to  know  what  the  Commissioner  had 
said  about  him.  When  I  told  him  that  he  had  not  men- 
tioned his  name,  his  pride  seemed  hurt,  but  he  cheered 
up  when  I  related  how  the  kaffir  spy  had  tried  to  pump 
Sibijaan. 

"I  would  hate  to  think  that  the  British  have  ceased  to 
worry  about  me,"  he  said.    "I  have  had  a  good  deal  of 

305 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

fun  by  teasing  them,  and  I  'm  not  ready  yet  to  settle 
down  and  become  a  farmer  all  the  time!" 

There  was  not  much  harm  in  Tuys,  but  he  was  Boer 
enough  to  enjoy  worrying  the  British  and  the  fact  that 
he  was  not  wanted  in  Swaziland  made  his  sojourns  there 
all  the  more  enjoyable. 

Next  day  we  visited  Tzaneen,  and  I  found  that  she 
was  much  interested  in  my  sudden  trip  to  ^Ibabane. 
Her  indunas  had  told  her  that  I  had  received  a  sum- 
mons to  visit  the  Commissioner  and  she  was  curious  to 
know  all  about  it.  I  told  her  why  Mr.  Honey  wanted 
to  know  about  me  and  then  repeated  his  advice. 

"Yes,  Mazaan  Bakoor,  I  know  all  about  the  govern- 
ment opposition  to  my  son  becoming  king,"  she  said. 
"He  has  so  many  followers  that  they  are  afraid  of  him. 
The  British  fear  Sebuza  because  they  would  sooner  have 
a  weak  old  woman  like  Labotsibeni  in  Swaziland  than 
a  strong  man  and  a  son  of  Buno." 

"How  many  followers  has  Sebuza,  Nkosikaas?"  I 
asked,  for  this  was  part  of  what  I  was  thinking. 

"Mzaan  Bakoor,  you  of  great  magic,  can  you  count 
the  blades  of  grass  in  the  field?"  she  replied. 

Then  she  assured  me  that  all  Swaziland  was  behind 
the  young  prince.  She  further  told  me  that  this  was  the 
chief  reason  why  Sebuza  was  disliked  by  the  govern- 
ment and  added  that  he  had  been  impudent  to  some 
British  officials.  I  had  heard  rumors  of  this,  but  had 
placed  small  weight  in  them.  Now,  it  seemed,  Sebuza 
must  have  over  overstepped  the  mark  and  no  recon- 

306 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

ciliation  was  possible  for  some  time.  This,  added  to 
what  I  had  heard  in  Mbabane,  made  me  despair  of  ac- 
complishing the  object  for  which  I  had  come  toLebombo. 
There  was  more  talk  along  the  same  line  and  we  treated 
the  queen  to  a  bottle  of  gin.  This  led  to  a  peculiar 
incident. 

That  night  Sebuza  came  to  our  camp  and  asked  to  see 
me.  I  thought  he  might  have  something  of  importance 
to  communicate,  but  all  he  asked  was  that  I  stop  giving 
gin  to  his  mother!  This,  of  course,  was  impossible. 
She  was  in  authority  until  he  became  king  and  her  re- 
quest for  liquor  was  a  command  we  dared  not  disobey. 

Sugden  had  spent  the  afternoon  with  L'Tunga  and 
had  watched  the  witch-doctors  smoke  dagga  weed.  I 
had  forgotten  to  tell  him  about  this  and  he  was  much 
excited  over  the  discovery.  With  his  faculty  for  ob- 
servation, he  had  made  a  serious  study  of  how  the  Swazi 
uses  the  weed  and  was  much  interested  in  its  effects. 

"L'Tunga  took  me  to  his  witch-doctors'  school,"  he 
told  me,  "and  I  watched  them  smoke  dagga.  It  is  a 
small  leaf  that  must  be  something  like  tea  before  it  is 
dried.  Believe  me,  it  has  a  'kick.'  There  were  about 
twenty  of  these  witch-doctors  sitting  in  a  circle  in  their 
kraal,  all  hitting  the  pipe.  They  have  a  crazy  way  of 
smoking  it,  too.  You  've  seen  the  pipe,  haven't  you? 
It 's  a  great  long  thing,  very  badly  made,  and  it  takes  a 
strong  man  to  make  it  draw. 

"The  way  they  smoke  is  this.  The  first  man  takes  a 
calabash  of  water  and  then  drops  a  coal  into  the  pipe, 

307 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

thus  lighting  it.  He  next  sucks  on  the  pipe  until  he 
gets  his  mouth  full  of  smoke.  Then  he  atempts  to  fill 
his  mouth  with  water,  all  the  while  trying  to  prevent 
any  of  the  smoke  from  escaping.  When  he  can  no 
longer  hold  the  smoke  and  water  in  his  mouth,  he  blows 
them  out  together.    It  is  a  sort  of  smoky  shower-bath ! 

"Most  of  them  could  only  do  it  once.  Almost  before 
they  could  pass  the  pipe  on  to  the  next  doctor, they  would 
keel  over  and  go  sound  asleep.  For  some  reason  or 
other  the  smoke  did  not  affect  them  all  in  the  same  way. 
Some  of  them  became  happy  and  began  to  chant,  but 
they,  too,  soon  grew  drowsy.  For  plain  unadulterated 
*kick,'  the  dagga  weed  has  it  over  anything  I  've  ever 
seen,  though  it  resembles  hemp  in  its  action." 

It  seems  that  L'Tunga  did  not  join  this  smoke-party, 
but  took  Sugden  to  where  he  could  see  the  common 
Swazis  indulge  in  the  same  pastime.  Not  being  allowed 
the  great  pipe  of  the  witch-doctors,  they  had  a  method  of 
their  own. 

First  they  dig  a  little  hole  in  the  ground.  Next  a 
narrow  trench  is  scraped  out  of  the  earth  leading  from 
this  hole  to  another  of  about  the  same  size.  At  the  bot- 
tom of  this  trench  is  placed  a  freshly  cut  stick,  and  this 
is  buried  in  the  hard  soil  by  covering  it  with  wet  clay. 
When  the  clay  is  firmly  packed  the  stick  is  drawn  out, 
leaving  a  little  tunnel.  Then  clay  is  used  to  build  a 
small  mound  over  the  second  hole,  through  which  an 
opening  is  made  which  connects  it  with  the  little  tunnel. 

308 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

This  is  the  mouthpiece  of  the  pipe,  the  tunnel  is  the 
stem,  and  the  first  hole  is  the  bowl. 

"The  Swazis  filled  the  hole  with  dagga  weed  and 
lighted  it  with  a  hot  cinder  from  the  fire  in  front  of  the 
kraal,"  Sugden  concluded.  "Then,  one  by  one,  they 
sucked  the  smoke  through  the  mouthpiece.  They  used 
the  water  method,  also.  It  was  an  amazing  sight !  One 
after  another  they  would  fall  over,  the  next  man  at  the 
pipe  usually  having  to  drag  the  body  of  the  last  one  out 
of  the  way." 

I  had  seen  these  dagga  orgies  before  and  knew  what 
they  were  like.  Sugden,  however,  thought  it  a  most 
unusual  spectacle  and  would  have  taken  a  whiff  of  the 
dagga  himself  if  he  had  been  urged.  His  interest  was 
purely  scientific,  of  course,  and  he  succeeded  in  obtaining 
a  few  leaves  of  the  plant  which  he  proposed  to  have 
analyzed  when  we  reached  civilization  again. 


309 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

Witch-doctors  of  Swaziland — How  they  brought  a  famine — L'Tunga's 
school  of  witch-doctoring — The  "Poison  Test"  to  settle  ownership — 
The  professional  witch-doctor's  equipment — L'Tunga  decides  a  murder 
case — Some  genuine  cures. 

DAGGA  weed  was  Sugden's  most  interesting  dis- 
covery up  to  that  time  and  it  whetted  his  appetite. 
I  pointed  out  to  him  that  the  witch-doctors'  craft  would 
be  a  good  thing  to  investigate  and  he  went  after  this 
like  a  bloodhound  on  a  hot  scent.  We  all  became  in- 
terested, and  I  soon  found  myself  whiling  away  the 
tedium  of  waiting  for  the  coronation  by  running  down 
evidence  of  the  art  of  "witch-doctoring." 

What  we  discovered  made  me  realize  the  wisdom  of 
the  government,  which  had  recently  passed  strict  laws 
against  the  witch-doctors.  For  a  time  L'Tunga  re- 
garded our  curiosity  as  a  great  impertinence  and  did 
everything  possible  to  prevent  our  getting  more  informa- 
tion than  was  readily  available.  Finally,  one  night,  he 
grew  confidential  and  told  us  why  the  government  had 
set  its  foot  down  on  his  brothers  of  the  craft.  He  did 
this  chiefly  because  Dr.  Sugden  and  I  had  shown  him 
that  we  were  "white  witch-doctors"  and  thus  had  estab- 
lished a  sort  of  fraternity  among  fellow  practitioners. 

"The  bad  witch-doctors  caused  all  the  trouble,"  he 
said,  "and  it  was  their  own  fault  that  the  government 

310 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

made  laws  against  them.  None  of  the  doctors  in  my 
'lodge'  were  guilty  of  these  offenses,  but  we  have  to 
suffer  with  the  rest.  Like  you  white  doctors,  I  cure 
the  sick  and  drive  out  evil  spirits." 

I  had  not  claimed  to  drive  out  spirits,  but  I  am  not 
sure  that  Sugden  had  not  made  such  a  statement.  He 
always  did  things  in  a  thorough  manner  and  L'Tunga 
might  have  misunderstood  him  when  he  told  him  what 
healers  we  were. 

"The  trouble  began  a  little  while  ago,"  the  witch- 
doctor went  on,"  when  a  number  of  strange  doctors  came 
among  us.  They  were  from  the  gold  country  to  the 
west  and  they  had  many  queer  tales  to  tell.  They  told 
our  people  that  they  were  fools  to  work  for  the  white 
men  and  that  they  ought  to  rise  up  and  drive  them  out 
of  the  country. 

"I  do  not  know  where  they  received  their  learning, 
but  they  said  that  our  people  were  as  good  as  the  white 
men  and  told  them  that  they  were  fools  to  let  white 
men  govern  them.  Our  people  listened  and  became 
much  excited.  They  talked  of  making  war  and  there 
was  much  unrest.  The  warriors  began  to  gather,  and  the 
Boers  and  other  white  men  sent  messengers  and  spies 
to  find  out  what  was  going  on. 

"However,  these  strange  witch-doctors  talked  too 
much  and  made  too  many  promises.  Soon  they  began  to 
tell  our  people  that  they  need  not  grow  any  more  com 
nor  breed  any  more  cattle.  They  promised  that  there 
would  be  a  great  rain  of  corn  and  that  millions  of  cows 

311 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

would  come  into  the  country  for  any  one  who  wanted 
them.  The  people  were  convinced  and  sat  about  in  idle- 
ness, waiting  for  the  free  food.  The  end  of  this  was 
that  there  was  much  hunger  in  our  land  and  many  of 
the  people  starved  to  death. 

"I  went  about  when  these  strange  witch-doctors  told 
these  lies  and  warned  our  people  that  starvation  would 
come.  But  they  scoffed  at  me  and  would  not  even  bow 
to  my  most  sacred  charms.  They  said  I  belonged  to  the 
old  order  and  that  the  new  witch-doctors  were  the  only 
ones  worth  following.  For  some  time — too  long  a  time 
— I  had  no  honor  and  it  was  not  until  starv^ation  came 
that  the  people  again  hstened  to  me. 

"Then  the  government  learned  of  all  these  things  and 
sent  food  to  the  people,  so  that  not  so  many  died.  Some 
of  the  strange  witch-doctors  were  caught  and  killed,  but 
most  of  them  escaped. 

"Making  starvation  was  not  the  only  crime  they  did. 
So  foolish  were  the  people  that  they  believed  in  them 
and  for  a  time  would  do  anything  they  said.  Some  of 
the  doctors  told  them  to  commit  murders  and  sold  them 
charms  that  were  to  prevent  them  from  getting  caught. 
A  number  of  killings  took  place  and  many  women  were 
stolen.  When  the  murderers  were  caught  and  brought 
to  court,  they  told  how  the  doctors  had  advised  them 
to  kill  and  even  named  the  number  of  cows  they  had  paid 
for  the  charms  that  were  supposed  to  nrotect  them. 
When  the  government  heard  of  this  they  became  very 
angrj^  and  passed  laws  against  witch-doctors." 

312 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

L'Tunga  was  full  of  this  invasion  of  Swaziland  by 
these  strange  witch-doctors  and  told  us  stories  about  it 
for  several  hours.  One  was  as  amusing  as  it  was  illu- 
minating. It  seemed  that  two  young  indunas  had  a 
difference  of  opinion  over  a  woman.  They  both  tried 
to  buy  her  and  bid  against  each  other,  so  that  the  success- 
ful one  had  to  pay  three  or  four  times  her  market  value. 
This  hurt  the  purchaser's  feelings,  while  the  loser  was 
angry  because  he  had  been  outbid.  The  result  was  that 
the  latter  went  to  one  of  the  witch-doctors  and  bought 
a  charm  to  protect  him  while  he  unostentatiously  mur- 
dered his  rival.  At  about  the  same  time  the  other  induna 
bought  a  charm  from  another  of  these  witch-doctors  and 
started  out  to  slay  his  enemy.  Before  they  could  meet 
the  two  witch-doctors  compared  notes  and  decided  it 
would  be  a  bad  thing  for  them  if  there  was  a  killing. 
The  doctor  whose  charm  proved  valueless  would  lose 
prestige  in  the  villages  he  was  plundering.  So  they 
agreed  to  prevent  bloodshed,  and  did  so  by  proving  that 
the  woman  in  question  was  bewitched  and  thus  only  fit 
to  serve  them!  One  of  them  took  her,  and  the  indunas 
decided  to  forget  their  differences.  However,  when  the 
crash  came,  after  the  starvation  episode,  they  hunted 
up  these  witch-doctors  and  promptly  killed  them. 

"I  have  never  heard  what  became  of  the  woman," 
concluded  L'Tunga,  "but  I  fear  she  is  no  longer  in 
danger  of  being  bewitched." 

Before  leaving  us  that  night  L'Tunga  agreed  to  tell 
us  everything  about  his  profession— with  reservations, 

313 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

I  suspected.  He  invited  us  to  visit  his  school  where  he 
trained  the  young  witch-doctors,  and  we  decided  to  do 
so  next  day.  His  invitation,  he  explained,  included  only 
Sugden  and  myself,  as  he  knew  that  none  of  the  rest 
of  my  party  were  "white  witch-doctors."  He  was  ex- 
tending to  us  a  sort  of  "professional  courtesy,"  as  it  were. 

We  learned  more  about  witch-doctoring  at  the  school 
in  a  short  hour  than  we  had  during  all  the  weeks  we  had 
been  in  its  proximity.  The  school  was  in  a  small  kraal 
set  apart  from  the  others,  and  we  found  about  a  score 
of  would-be  "doctors"  in  attendance.  We  must  have 
arrived  at  a  slack  moment,  for  they  were  all  smoking 
dagga  weed  and  enjoying  it  to  the  full.  L'Tunga, 
nevertheless,  showed  us  all  over  the  place  and  pains- 
takingly explained  everything  of  interest.  One  small 
hut,  however,  was  forbidden  to  us.  He  explained  that 
it  was  the  sanctuary  where  the  charms  were  kept,  and 
that  if  white  men  entered  it,  none  of  the  charms  would 
ever  be  of  any  use.  "We  'd  put  a  curse  on  'em!"  Sugden 
tersely  put  it. 

It  was  at  the  end  of  this  tour  of  inspection  that  we 
received  a  practical  demonstration  of  how  a  regular 
witch-doctor  works.  We  were  beginning  to  examine 
L'Tunga's  professional  equipment  when  one  of  the  neo- 
phytes approached  and  with  the  utmost  respect  informed 
him  that  he  was  wanted.  Of  course  we  went  along,  and 
found  quite  a  gathering  at  the  gate  of  the  kraal.  In 
the  center  were  two  large  and  indignant  warriors.  They 
were  all  chattering  away  at  a  great  rate,  but  all  talk 

314 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

ceased  immediately  when  L'Tunga  stepped  out  of  the 
gate.  He  was  absolute  master  of  the  situation,  and 
the  deference  with  which  these  common  people  treated 
him  showed  that  they  knew  it. 

"Why  do  you  disturb  L'Tunga  and  his  white  friends?" 
he  demanded.  "Do  you  not  know  that  these  are  white 
witch-doctors  of  great  magic  and  are  too  great  to  even 
look  on  such  lowly  people  as  you?" 

Properly  rebuked,  the  crowd  dropped  its  eyes,  and 
then  L'Tunga  quickly  found  out  what  was  wanted.  It 
seemed  that  the  two  warriors  each  claimed  to  own  a 
certain  cow.  Instead  of  fighting  over  its  possession, 
they  had  decided  to  ask  L'Tunga  to  find  the  rightful 
owner  by  means  of  the  "Poison  Test."  I  had  often 
heard  rumors  of  this  test,  but  had  never  seen  it  per- 
formed. L'Tunga  talked  with  them  a  little  while  and 
arranged  that  the  loser  was  to  pay  him  one  cow  for  his 
services  in  determining  the  ownership  of  the  animal. 
After  this  was  decided,  each  of  the  warriors  sent  one 
of  his  people  to  get  a  cow.  While  these  cows  were  being 
brought  L'Tunga  prepared  himself  for  the  test. 

We  went  to  his  hut  and  he  allowed  us  to  squat  nearby 
and  watch  him  dress.  Two  of  the  would-be  witch- 
doctors acted  as  valets  for  him,  and  when  he  had  fin- 
ished he  was  certainly  a  striking  and  awesome  figure. 
First,  he  was  plentifully  smeared  on  the  forehead,  face, 
and  body  with  a  sort  of  red-and-white  clay  pigment. 
With  his  black  skin,  this  gave  him  a  weird  appearance. 
When  sufficiently  painted,  he  put  on  a  magnificent  head- 

315 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

dress  consisting  chiefly  of  porcupine  quills  some  fourteen 
inches  long.  This  headdress  is  known  as  the  "ekufue" 
and  is  only  worn  by  witch-doctors  who  are  masters  of 
the  craft.  The  white  pigment  is  known  as  "ocikela," 
while  the  red  is  called  "onongo."  Both  have  other 
uses  which  we  were  soon  to  learn. 

To  complete  his  costume  L'Tunga  wound  a  wide  strip 
of  antelope  skin  about  his  middle.  This  contains  a  large 
pouch  and  is  known  as  the  "uya."  In  it  are  carried  a 
number  of  medicines  and  some  charms.  When  fully 
dressed  for  his  work  our  friend  looked  every  inch  a 
leader  of  his  profession. 

On  our  return  to  the  kraal  gate  we  found  the  two 
cows  waiting.  L'Tunga  looked  them  over  and  said  they 
would  do,  although  he  was  far  from  enthusiastic. 
Sugden  and  I  thought  they  were  fine  beasts,  but  it 
would  not  have  done  for  the  witch-doctor  to  have  ad- 
mitted this. 

Then  came  the  test.  The  warriors  were  told  to  stand 
together  in  front  of  L'Tunga,  who  knelt  on  several 
small  but  fine  skins  which  his  assistants  had  placed  on 
the  ground.  When  all  were  in  place  an  assistant  handed 
L'Tunga  a  small  hollow  gourd,  or  "okapo,"  partly  filled 
with  water.  In  this  he  mixed  several  drugs  the  nature 
of  which  we  learned  later.  First  came  a  form  of 
"ombambu,"  which  is  said  to  be  so  deadly  that  birds 
die  when  they  light  on  the  limbs  of  the  tree  from  which 
it  is  obtained.  Then  came  another  drug  of  the  same 
nature,  said  to  be  obtained  from  the  roots  of  the  tree. 

316 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Lastly  L'Tunga  dumped  "onsunga" — a  mixture  of 
powdered  herbs  the  ingredients  of  which  we  were  never 
able  to  ascertain — into  the  gourd.  Then  he  stirred  the 
mess  with  the  foot  of  an  antelope.  While  he  stirred  it 
he  chanted  in  a  low  voice. 

During  all  this  performance  the  crowd  remained 
absolutely  silent,  as  were  we.  The  only  noise  was  the 
lowing  of  one  of  the  cows  who  seemed  to  disapprove 
of  the  proceedings. 

When  the  "hellish  brew,"  as  Sugden  called  it  after- 
ward, was  thoroughly  mixed,  L'Tunga  handed  it  to  one 
of  the  warriors  and  told  him  to  drink  it.  Without  hesi- 
tation the  man  did  so,  and  it  seemed  to  me  he  took  a 
good  half  of  the  mixture.  L'Tunga  then  retrieved  the 
gourd  and  passed  it  to  the  other  warrior,  who  drank 
the  remainder. 

Next  came  the  climax  of  the  test.  Both  warriors 
appeared  to  grow  violently  ill.  L'Tunga  chanted  in 
a  louder  tone,  while  the  crowd  pressed  close.  Sugden 
and  I  did  not  know  what  was  going  to  happen  and 
watched  anxiously.  The  warriors  swayed  back  and 
forth  and  there  was  an  air  of  tense  expectation  that 
became  constantly  more  acute.  Suddenly  Sugden 
caught  my  arm. 

"Look,  look !  He  's  going  to  vomit !"  he  said,  point- 
ing at  one  of  the  warriors.  He  was  right.  A  second 
later  the  man  retched  and  vomited.  As  he  did  so,  the 
crowd  cried  out  so  loudly  that  I  caught  the  words, 
"He  is  the  loser!     It  is  not  his  cow!" 

317 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

L'Tunga  immediately  stepped  to  the  man  and 
smeared  him  with  red  pigment,  placing  it  mainly  on  his 
forehead  and  arms.  Next  he  turned  quickly  to  the  other 
and  smeared  him  in  similar  manner  with  the  white  pig- 
ment. Then  with  all  haste  L'Tunga  mixed  "asangu" 
and  gave  some  to  each  man.  This,  we  learned  later,  was 
a  powerful  emetic  and  it  certainly  acted  without  delay. 

When  the  warriors  had  calmed  down  they  were  rather 
weak  and  weary.  L'Tunga  directed  an  assistant  to  take 
the  cow  of  the  man  who  became  sick,  and  we  thus  under- 
stood that  he  had  lost  in  the  "Poison  Test."  While 
L'Tunga  was  divesting  himself  of  his  ceremonial  trap- 
pings he  explained  to  us  that  there  was  no  doubt  that 
this  man  was  wrong  about  the  ownership  of  the  cow 
over  which  the  dispute  began — if  he  had  owned  the 
animal,  he  would  not  have  vomited! 

"This  is  no  country  for  a  man  with  a  weak  stomach," 
Sugden  remarked  to  me.  "It  looks  as  if  a  strong  con- 
stitution counts  even  more  here  than  in  the  U.  S.  A." 

L'Tunga  also  explained  that  both  warriors  would 
have  died  forthwith,  had  he  not  given  them  the  emetic. 
The  mixture  he  had  compounded  caused  sure  death  after 
a  short  time.  He  told  us  that  he  considered  the  cow 
he  had  received  in  payment  not  much  of  an  animal  and 
adopted  the  pose  that  his  talents  had  been  poorly  re- 
munerated. 

By  sjTnpathizing  with  him  in  these  complaints  we 
made  L'Tunga  feel  that  there  was  a  further  professional 
bond  between  us,  and  he  became  even  more  willing  to 

313 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

assist  us  in  our  study  of  witch-doctoring.  When  he 
had  removed  his  paint  and  other  marks  of  his  profession, 
he  offered  to  show  us  the  stock-in-trade  of  a  real  witch- 
doctor. 

"We  must  use  many  wonderful  and  powerful  charms 
in  our  work  among  the  poor  and  ignorant  people,"  he 
said.  "Many  of  them  have  come  down  to  us  from  the 
old  witch-doctors  who  knew  much  more  than  I  do,  and 
I  know  more  than  any  other  in  the  whole  of  South 
Africa.  My  father  was  a  witch-doctor,  and  his  father 
was  one,  too.  He  was  the  head  witch-doctor  for  King 
Ama-Swazi,  and  his  word  was  law  with  the  king  as  well 
as  the  people.  In  his  day  there  was  much  honor  for  a 
real  witch-doctor  and  he  had  many  wives.  He  was  very, 
very  rich.  He  was  also  very  powerful,  so  that  the  king 
was  glad  to  have  him  with  him  when  he  made  war  and 
governed  his  people." 

I  had  already  heard  tales  of  his  respected  ancestor, 
but  I  regret  to  say  that  few  of  these  reflected  credit  on 
him.  It  seems  that  Ama-Swazi  allowed  him  the  right 
to  inflict  the  death  penalty,  and  it  was  his  habit  to  remove 
any  induna  whose  wives  he  coveted  or  who  might  possess 
anything  else  he  could  use.  In  addition  to  these  civic 
activities,  this  old  devil  added  a  number  of  new  charms 
to  the  outfit  carried  by  a  professional  witch-doctor  and 
L'Tunga  was  proud  of  the  fact  that  he  had  some  of  the 
original  ones  his  ancestor  had  invented. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  things  that  L'Tunga 
showed  us  was  his  charm-case,  or  "uhamba,"  which  all 

319 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

properly  accredited  witch-doctors  carry.  This  corre- 
sponds to  the  familiar  little  black  bag  carried  by  white 
physicians  when  making  their  calls.  The  "uhamba"  he 
used  was  a  tightly  woven  basket,  roughly  one  foot  broad, 
two  feet  long,  and  perhaps  ten  inches  high.  In  this  was 
a  queer  collection  of  charms.  The  chief  thing,  however, 
was  the  "ongombo",  or  small  gourd  used  in  divination. 
This  was  very  sacred  and  L'Tonga  would  not  allow  us 
to  touch  it.  In  it  were  the  most  potent  charms,  and 
he  exhibited  these  to  us  one  by  one. 

There  were  a  few  rough  images  of  wood,  very  crudely 
made  but  yet  unmistakably  representing  human  beings. 
They  were  both  male  and  female,  and  were  used  to 
symbolize  persons  who  were  doing  business  with  the 
witch-doctor.  Then  there  was  a  lion's  tooth,  a  horn  of 
a  goat,  some  chicken-bones,  a  pig's  foot,  and  the  hoof 
of  an  ox.  More  interesting  than  these  were  a  chicken's 
head  dried  with  the  mouth  open,  which  was  used  to 
symbolize  a  gossip,  and  the  dried  nose  of  a  hyena,  which 
L'Tunga  used  when  he  "srnelled  out"  crime.  There 
were  a  number  of  other  odds  and  ends,  but  they  had 
no  special  significance.  All  these  charms  played  a  part 
in  various  rituals,  and  L'Tunga  told  us  that  none  of  the 
would-be  witch-doctors  in  his  school  were  allowed  to 
practice  until  they  were  able  to  use  each  and  every  one 
correctly. 

Next  he  showed  us  a  number  of  other  charms  of  a 
different  character.  One  of  these  was  the  "ombinga," 
which  was  the  horn  of  an  ox,  full  of  medicines,  herbs, 

320 


INTERIOR  OF  THE  ROYAL  KRAAL 
This  shows  the  details  of  its  construction,  and  also  warriors  and  children 


CHIEF  WITCH-DOCTOR  OF  SWAZILAND 

He  is  holding  the  latest  addition  to  his  family.    He  is  a  very  influential  man  and  is  the 

personal  doctor  to  the  queen  and  the  prince.    He  has  thirteen  wives  and  sixty  children 


A  SCHOOL  OF  WITCH-DOCTORS 


A  SWAZI  SEMINARY  OR  SCHOOL  FOR  YOUNG  WITCH-DOCTORS 
These  are  being  taught  the  secrets  of  their  profession,  one  of  them  being  in  the  act  of  smok- 
ing a  Swazi  pipe 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

and  drugs.  This  was  a  very  valuable  and  potent  charm, 
and  only  kings  and  great  indunas  were  allowed  to  pos- 
sess it.  It  was  supposed  to  prevent  lightning  or  disease 
from  striking  the  owner,  and  its  wonderful  power  also 
extended  to  his  family  and  possessions.  In  addition,  it 
was  supposed  to  prevent  wild  animals  from  attacking 
those  under  its  protection. 

"That  is  some  charm,  believe  me,"  Sugden  said,  when 
L'Tunga  had  reverently  explained  it.  "It  is  a  combined 
lightning-rod  and  accident  policy,  and  must  cost  a  lot." 

L'Tunga  assured  us  that  the  "ombinga"  cost  many 
cows,  and  this  was  the  reason  why  only  kings  and  chiefs 
could  afford  to  own  it.  Following  this,  he  showed  us 
a  rain  wand,  but  refrained  from  demonstrating  its  power. 
This  he  called  an  "ocifungo."  It  was  made  of  the  tail 
of  an  ox,  with  two  small  deer  horns  inserted  in  the  end. 
There  were  some  magic  oils  in  the  tail,  also,  and  he 
explained  that  he  could  drive  rain  away  by  blowing  the 
little  horns  and  waving  the  tail  at  the  rain.  Sugden 
asked  him  in  all  solemnness  if  the  wand  worked,  and 
L'Tunga  assured  him  that  it  was  infallible,  provided 
the  right  payment  had  been  made.  The  payment,  it 
seems,  consisted  of  a  number  of  cows,  and  young  women 
would  not  be  refused.  Sugden  remarked  that  we  ought 
to  get  one  of  these  rain-dispellers  and  have  it  around 
all  the  time  so  that  we  would  not  have  any  further 
trouble  with  wet  weather. 

Last  of  all,  L'Tunga  unwrapped  a  bundle  of  skins 
and  produced  a  number  of  neck-charms,  known  in  the 

321 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

singular  as  an  "umbanda."  These  were  for  the  use  of 
any  one  willing  to  buy  them,  and  were  most  potent  as 
a  protection  against  injury  in  battle.  The  "umbanda" 
consists  of  two  bottle-shaped  objects  about  four  inches 
long  and  is  made  of  woven  grass-string.  From  the  end 
of  each  there  protrudes  a  tuft  of  feathers  about  two  or 
three  inches  long,  and  each  one  contains  magic  medi- 
cines. The  Swazi  warriors  wear  the  "umbanda"  around 
the  neck  and  believe  that  they  stand  a  poor  chance  in 
battle  unless  they  do  so.  However,  I  had  seen  natives 
wearing  them  at  times  when  there  was  no  war,  and  this 
prompted  me  to  ask  L'Tunga  about  it. 

"There  is  always  a  reason,  Mazan  Bakoor,"  he  said. 
"When  a  warrior  puts  on  his  *umbanda,'  he  fears  that 
he  may  meet  the  assegai  of  an  enemy.  Then  again,  he 
may  be  going  to  destroy  an  enemy  and  wishes  to  be 
protected." 

Further  development  of  his  explanation  showed  that 
when  a  Swazi  appeared  wearing  his  "umbanda,"  it  was 
generally  understood  that  he  was  off  to  a  kilhng.  They 
always  go  armed,  so  that  weapons  mean  nothing,  but 
when  they  put  on  this  charm  there  is  bloody  work  afoot. 

After  inspecting  L'Tunga's  equipment  we  strolled 
over  to  the  school,  where  a  class  was  in  session.  The 
details  of  this  we  missed,  however,  as  the  instruction 
halted  as  soon  as  we  came  in  sight.  L'Tunga  talked  for 
a  moment  with  the  "professor"  and  then  told  us  that 
the  fact  that  we  were  white  men  would  prevent  us  from 
seeing  the  novices  receive  their  instruction. 

322 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"But  it  would  not  be  worth  your  time  to  see  these 
young  men  at  work,"  he  added  to  console  us.  "They 
are  only  learning  certain  rituals.  First  the  instructor 
explains  the  charm  to  be  used,  and  then  he  shows  them 
how  it  is  done.  They  try  to  do  as  he  does,  and  when 
they  have  learned  he  explains  another  charm." 

Sugden  and  I  were  sorry  not  to  see  this  class  at  work. 
It  would  have  been  entertaining  to  watch  them,  and  I 
wondered  how  they  would  have  compared  with  my 
classes  in  the  Harvard  Medical  School.  Of  one  thing 
I  felt  certain — these  savages  were  just  as  much  in  earnest 
as  any  of  us  back  there  in  Cambridge. 

It  appears  to  take  a  long  time  to  make  a  bona-fide 
witch-doctor.  The  course  given  in  L'Tunga's  school  is 
most  thorough — at  least,  that  is  what  he  said — and  no 
candidate  receives  his  "uhamba"  until  he  knows  all  the 
tricks  of  the  trade.  It  astonished  us  to  find  this  intel- 
ligent savage  taking  his  profession  so  seriously;  it  all 
seemed  such  frightful  nonsense  to  us.  Still,  the  thought 
came  to  me  that  L'Tunga  might  think  the  same  about 
some  of  our  most  sacred  medical  practices.  When  we 
left  him  he  promised  that  he  would  send  for  us  the  next 
•time  he  was  to  work. 

Three  days  later  he  did  so.  One  of  his  students  came 
to  tell  us  that  his  chief  was  about  to  make  a  divination 
and  that  we  could  witness  it  if  we  wished.  Naturally, 
we  accepted.  We  had  been  eager  to  see  a  divination, 
which  we  understood  to  be  a  ceremony  where  the  witch- 
doctor really  went  through  his  paces. 

323 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

L'Tunga  was  waiting  for  us  in  his  hut.  He  was 
cordial,  but  very  solemn. 

"This  is  a  serious  case,"  he  said.  "I  am  about  to  ask 
the  spirits  to  decide  the  life  or  death  of  an  induna.  He 
is  accused  of  murdering  another  induna,  and  there  is  no 
way  of  proving  his  guilt  or  innocence  except  through  the 
spirits  who  work  for  me.  To-day  you  shall  see  the  most 
important  work  I  do!" 

We  were  properly  impressed.  Sugden,  in  fact,  was 
so  interested  that  he  forgot  to  make  his  usual  caustic 
comment.  It  struck  me  as  the  most  barbaric  thing  we 
had  yet  encountered  that  this  witch-doctor  with  his  fool- 
ish bag  of  tricks  should  be  called  upon  to  decide  the  fate 
of  a  fellow-being. 

L'Tunga  dressed  himself  as  before,  the  only  difference 
being  that  he  put  on  his  paint  and  ornaments  with  more 
care.  When  he  was  dressed  he  called  out,  and  several 
of  the  young  witch-doctors  entered.  These  he  loaded 
with  various  queer  things  the  nature  of  which  developed 
at  the  ceremony.  When  we  were  all  ready,  our  party 
solemnly  marched  out  to  the  entrance  of  the  kraal. 

There  we  found  a  large  crowd  of  people,  the  great 
majority  being  warriors  and  indunas.  Standing  apart 
'  from  the  rest,  facing  the  gate,  was  the  induna  whose  fate 
was  to  be  decided.  He  was  a  tall,  heavy-set  man  of 
middle  age,  and  his  face  was  that  of  a  killer.  He  looked 
as  if  he  might  be  accused  of  a  dozen  murders,  instead 
of  only  one. 

324 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"If  looks  count  for  anything,  that  gentleman  ought 
to  be  shot  on  sight!"  was  Sugden's  remark. 

L'Tunga  halted  just  outside  the  entrance  of  the  kraal, 
and  an  old  witch-doctor  stepped  out  of  the  crowd  and 
addressed  him. 

"O  L'Tunga,  greatest  of  witch-doctors,"  he  began, 
"you  are  called  upon  to  decide  the  guilt  or  innocence 
of  Makeza,  this  induna,  the  owner  of  many  cows  and 
women.  Three  days  ago  an  induna  was  found  dead 
with  many  wounds.  Makeza  was  his  enemy,  and  the 
people  of  their  village  say  that  Makeza  killed  him  in 
the  night.  Oktela  was  his  name,  and  now  Makeza  has 
taken  his  wives  and  there  is  much  outcry  in  the  village. 
Makeza  says  that  he  knows  nothing  about  Oktela's  death, 
but  you,  L'Tunga  the  Great,  can  decide!" 

While  he  stated  the  case  against  Makeza  the  induna 
gtood  gazing  defiantly  at  L'Tunga,  and  I  had  a  feeling 
that  he  was  not  helping  his  case. 

"My  spirits  will  decide  whether  Makeza  is  guilty  or 
not!"  L'Tunga  announced  in  a  loud  voice. 

The  witch-doctor  waited  while  the  little  skins  were 
placed  and  then  knelt  down  facing  Makeza,  who  also 
knelt  at  a  sign  from  L'Tunga.  Next  the  assistants 
placed  two  roughly  carved  wooden  figures,  about  a  foot 
high,  in  front  of  the  witch-doctor.  These  are  known 
as  "ovitakas"  and  are  supposed  to  represent  the  spirits 
that  are  to  be  invoked  for  the  divination.  It  was  plain 
to  see  that  the  figures  were  male  and  female.  L'Tunga 
then  put  on  a  necklace  which  was  handed  him  by  an 

325 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

assistant.  This  seemed  to  be  made  of  teeth  of  various 
wild  animals,  those  of  the  lion  being  most  noticeable. 
He  next  picked  up  a  gourd  and  handed  it  to  Makeza, 
who  immediately  commenced  to  shake  it.  It  was  full 
of  seeds  of  some  kind  and  made  a  loud  rattle.  L'Tunga 
produced  a  similar  gourd  and  also  started  to  shake  it. 

This  rattling  was  really  the  beginning  of  the  cere- 
mony. After  a  short  time  L'Tunga  commenced  blow- 
ing on  a  whistle,  which  gave  a  loud  shrill  sound.  It  was 
a  horn  of  a  small  deer  set  in  the  end  of  an  ox-tail  which 
was  wrapped  with  broad  bands  of  red,  black,  and  white 
beads.  The  whistle  was  to  call  the  spirits  and  we  noted 
that  the  people  seemed  to  get  much  excited  when  they 
heard  it.  After  a  few  moments  L'Tunga  began  to  vary 
the  whistling  with  a  sort  of  chant  in  a  minor  key.  The 
sound  of  his  voice  struck  terror  into  the  audience,  and 
I  could  see  that  they  were  terribly  afraid.  Makeza 
showed  his  fear  by  rattling  his  gourd  with  what  almost 
amounted  to  frenzy. 

The  whistling,  rattling,  and  chanting  went  on  and  on, 
all  the  time  rising  in  a  crescendo.  The  excitement  of 
the  crowd  became  more  and  more  intense,  until  it  seemed 
to  me  that  something  must  happen  soon.  L'Tunga  ap- 
peared to  be  quite  mad,  and  JNIakeza  shook  his  gourd 
as  though  his  hfe  depended  on  the  noise  he  made. 

At  the  exact  moment  when  the  situation  became  un- 
bearable, and  when  I  felt  as  though  I  would  go  mad  also, 
L'Tunga  stopped  his  noise.  A  second  later  there  was 
silence,  broken  only  by  the  deep  breaths  of  the  audience. 

326 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

The  sudden  silence  came  with  such  a  shock  that  it  quite 
unnerved  one. 

Presently  L'Tunga  raised  his  empty  hands  above  his 
head  and  slowly  brought  them  down  over  his  "uhamba," 
which  lay  on  the  ground  in  front  of  him.  He  held  his 
position  for  a  moment,  Makeza's  eyes  riveted  on  him. 
Then  L'Tunga  slowly  waved  his  hands  back  and  forth, 
and  I  could  see  Makeza  following  their  every  movement. 

This  must  have  lasted  for  a  few  moments  only,  but 
it  seemed  an  age.  Suddenly  the  hands  stopped,  re- 
mained still  for  the  space  of  a  breath,  and  then  swooped 
down  on  the  "uhamba."  With  one  motion  L'Tunga 
picked  up  the  charm-case  and  shook  it  above  his  head. 
Three  shakes,  and  he  held  it  motionless! 

Slowly,  very  slowly,  he  brought  it  down  and  laid  it 
on  the  ground.  Makeza  watched,  his  eyes  bright  and 
big  with  dread.  L'Tunga  looked  at  him  fixedly  for 
a  brief  space,  and  then  slowly  lifted  the  top  of  the 
"uhamba"  and  glanced  into  it. 

"Guilty!  Guilty!"  he  shouted  in  a  ringing  voice. 
"The  red  horn  stands!  The  spirits  have  decided! 
Makeza  is  guilty!" 

The  induna  seemed  stunned  for  a  second,  and  for 
about  the  same  space  the  crowd  remained  quiet.  Then 
everything  broke  loose  at  once.  Excited  cries  rose  from 
the  warriors;  Makeza  sprang  to  his  feet;  L'Tunga 
jumped  up  and  back  to  where  we  stood.  The  con- 
demned man  looked  wildly  about  and  then,  snatching 

327 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

up  his  knob-kerrie,  assegais,  and  shield,  made  a  wild  dash 
to  escape. 

It  was  all  over  much  more  quickly  than  it  can  be  told. 
The  thud  of  knob-kerrie  on  shield,  the  flash  of  steel,  and 
Makeza  lay  there  in  the  bright  sun,  a  bleeding,  mangled 
thing  I 

L'Tunga  was  the  least  excited  of  all  of  us;  he  seemed 
to  take  the  killing  as  a  matter  of  course. 

"Makeza  had  killed,'*  he  said  later,  when  we  returned 
to  his  hut,  "and  his  life  was  forfeit.  He  knew  that  he 
would  have  to  die,  so  he  attempted  to  escape.  I  under- 
stand that  he  would  have  been  joined  by  a  number  of 
warriors  if  he  had  been  able  to  get  into  the  hills." 

Sugden  and  I  were  curious  to  know  about  the  "red 
horn,"  and  L'Tunga  removed  the  top  of  his  "uhamba" 
and  showed  it  to  us.  The  horn  was  a  short  piece  of  one 
from  an  antelope,  with  the  top  painted  red.  In  the 
basket,  also,  was  a  small  figure  of  about  the  same  size 
as  the  horn,  on  the  head  of  which  was  a  cowry  shell. 

"If  the  spirits  had  decided  that  Makeza  was  innocent," 
L'Tunga  explained,  "the  figure  would  have  been  stand- 
ing when  I  took  the  top  off  the  'uhamba.'  But  they 
knew  that  he  was  guilty,  so  the  red  horn  stood  at  their 
command." 

This  seemed  a  poor  way  to  determine  a  case  of  life 
or  death,  but  Makeza  was  the  only  one  who  had  any 
objections.  It  was  the  custom,  and  thus  was  quite  all 
right  in  the  eyes  of  Swaziland.  On  theory,  Makeza  had 
an  even  chance,  which  is  a  good  deal  more  than  he  would 

323 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

have  had  before  any  civilized  jury.  His  appearance 
alone  would  have  convicted  him.  I  had  about  convinced 
myself  that  the  induna  had  received  a  fair  deal,  when 
Sugden  insisted  that  the  bottom  of  the  little  image  of 
innocence  was  round,  so  that  it  could  not  stand. 

"Makeza  never  had  a  chance!"  he  exclaimed.  "The 
cards  were  stacked  against  him.  The  poor  devil!" 
Immediately  Sugden  became  sorry  for  the  induna, 
although  he  agreed  with  me  that  he  could  not  have  been 
an5i;hing  but  a  murderer. 

Before  we  returned  to  camp  L'Tunga  explained  some 
of  the  work  an  accredited  witch-doctor  is  supposed  to  be 
able  to  perform.  He  said  he  could  do  all  the  things  he 
talked  about.  According  to  him,  a  real  witch-doctor 
can  recover  stolen  goods;  he  can  read  the  past  and 
future ;  he  can  cast  out  spells  and  provide  charms  against 
them,  and  can  "smell  out"  the  witches  that  cause  other 
than  violent  deaths.  The  genuine  witch-doctor  can 
cause  the  com  to  grow;  he  can  make  or  stop  rain  and 
can  cause  the  cows  to  give  milk  when  they  have  been 
bewitched  and  their  milk  dries  up  too  soon.  This  last 
is  accomplished  by  boiling  some  of  the  affected  cow's 
milk  and  whipping  the  animal  severely  with  a  sjambok 
while  the  milk  boils. 

Among  the  hocus-pocus  and  humbuggery  of  the  witch- 
doctor's trade  we  found  several  genuine  "cures"  which 
they  used  to  alleviate  suffering  among  their  people.  I 
do  not  know  the  nature  of  these  "cures,"  but  they  are 
all  drugs.     As  an  emetic,  and  a  most  efficient  one, 

329 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

L'Tunga  gives  his  patient  "asangu" ;  for  rheumatism  he 
prescribes  "amatoli"  and  sometimes  "ovihata,"  and  the 
distress  of  a  mother  in  labor  is  greatly  lessened  by  giving 
her  "oluvanga"  to  chew.  This  is  a  leaf,  while  the  rheu- 
matism "cures"  are  both  powders,  as  is  the  emetic. 

One  stock  remedy  of  which  L'Tunga  was  very  proud 
greatly  amused  us  both,  but  we  concealed  our  amuse- 
ment lest  he  think  we  were  making  fun  of  him.  This 
was  "ekulo,"  a  love  medicine  which  he  said  was  most 
potent. 

"When  a  wife  wishes  to  be  preferred  above  all  other 
wives  of  an  induna,"  he  explained,  in  telling  of  its  use, 
"she  comes  to  me  and  I  give  her  'ekulo.'  This  she  mixes 
with  the  food  of  her  husband,  and  from  that  time  on  he 
cannot  resist  her  and  she  becomes  his  favorite  wife  and 
is  mistress  of  all  the  others." 

L'Tunga  explained  other  uses  of  "ekulo,"  but  these 
are  "too  intimate,"  as  Sugden  said,  to  be  set  forth  here. 

After  our  investigation  of  witch-doctoring  as  it  is 
practiced  in  Swaziland,  Sugden  and  I  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  the  British  knew  what  they  were  doing  when 
they  placed  a  ban  on  it.  Even  L'Tunga,  kindly  soul 
that  he  was,  ought  to  be  suppressed. 


330 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Wearisome  delay  in  coronation — War  suggestions  from  Unusulek — My  plan 
to  bluflf  Labotsibeni — The  bluff  is  called — A  ticklish  situation — Labot- 
slbeni  refuses  to  surrender  the  throne — Our  demonstration  fails — 
Night  murders  provoke  war. 

DURING  the  next  two  months  Tuys  and  I  had 
ahnost  daily  interviews  with  Tzaneen  and  Se- 
buza,  but  we  got  no  nearer  the  coronation.  The 
situation  was  becoming  a  scandal  in  Swaziland  and  was 
hurting  the  prestige  of  the  royal  family  at  Lebombo. 
Indunas  kept  coming  in  from  the  outlying  districts  and 
asking  how  soon  the  coronation  would  take  place.  With 
them  came  their  warriors,  and  there  was  much  murmur- 
ing because  of  the  delay. 

We,  too,  were  growing  more  and  more  impatient,  and 
to  add  to  our  distress  Rossman,  my  camera-man,  became 
ill.  I  could  do  httle  for  him,  and  he  was  thoroughly 
disgusted  with  the  lack  of  action.  Finally,  on  his 
urgent  request,  I  sent  him  out  through  Portuguese  ter- 
ritory to  Delagoa  Bay,  where  he  caught  a  steamer  for 
his  home  in  America.  Oom  Tuys  took  him  to  the  coast 
and  was  gone  nearly  two  weeks.  He  returned  to  find 
us  just  where  we  had  been  when  he  left,  except  that 
the  population  of  Lebombo  was  increased  by  several 
hundred  more  expectant  warriors.     These  had  all  come 

331 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

for  the  coronation  and  were  unable  to  understand  why 
Tzaneen  did  not  go  ahead  with  it. 

Tuys  brought  word  from  some  one  he  had  talked  to 
at  Delagoa  Bay  that  there  was  a  general  understanding 
among  the  Portuguese  that  Sebuza  intended  taking  the 
throne  by  force.  In  fact,  traders  were  warned  not  to 
go  into  Swaziland  for  fear  that  they  might  get  mixed 
up  in  the  impending  civil  war.  Rumors  of  war  always 
lead  to  "gun-running"  in  South  Africa,  just  as  they  did 
in  Cuba  in  the  old  days,  and  I  asked  Tuys  if  he  had 
heard  whether  anji;hing  of  this  nature  was  taking  place. 
"The  authorities  there  are  not  taking  any  chances," 
he  said.  "They  are  not  anxious  to  become  embroiled 
with  the  British  and  have  posted  extra  guards  at  many 
places  along  the  border.  If  anyone  tries  to  get  guns 
to  the  Swazis,  he  will  have  to  be  very  clever  or  he  '11  be 
caught." 

It  is  absolutely  forbidden  to  sell  guns  to  the  kafl&rs 
anywhere  in  the  Transvaal,  but  there  are  always  ven- 
turesome traders  who  find  it  impossible  to  overlook  the 
chance  of  making  a  big  profit,  for  a  gun  is  worth  more 
than  its  weight  in  silver  to  any  native  able  to  pay  for  it. 
I  remembered  my  experience  with  King  Buno  years 
before,  when  Oom  Tuys  allowed  me  to  present  him  with 
a  Mauser  rifle. 

The  monotony  of  the  delay  in  the  coronation  was 
hard  to  bear.  As  already  stated,  we  visited  Tzaneen 
and  Sebuza  nearly  every  day,  but  it  was  weeks  before 
anything  happened. 

332 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

It  was  about  four  months  after  we  came  to  Lebombo 
that  Tzaneen  sent  for  us  one  day.  We  found  her  sur- 
rounded by  a  number  of  strange  indunas  who  seemed 
to  be  friendly  with  Vilakazi,  one  of  the  sons  of  Buno 
and  therefore  an  uncle  of  Sebuza.  It  seemed  that  we 
had  been  summoned  to  attend  an  important  conference. 
I  was  glad  of  this,  for  it  might  mean  that  some  action 
was  about  to  be  taken.  We  entered  the  royal  hut  with 
the  usual  formalities,  and  the  strange  indunas  saluted 
respectfully. 

"Nkoos,  these  great  chiefs  have  come  from  Stegea," 
the  queen  said.  "They  have  been  sent  with  a  message 
from  Umzulek.  They  are  the  leaders  of  his  impis  and 
he  has  directed  them  to  counsel  with  me  for  the  purpose 
of  taking  the  throne  by  force.  Umzulek  has  talked 
much  with  Vilakazi,  who  has  explained  to  him  all  the 
difficulties  that  surround  us.  Umzulek  declares  he  will 
send  all  his  warriors  to  our  assistance,  if  we  will  drive 
Labotsibeni  from  the  throne  and  make  my  son  king." 

During  this  speech  Tuys  watched  me  keenly.  I  could 
feel  that  there  was  war  in  the  air.  The  people  of  Swazi- 
land had  come  to  the  end  of  their  patience  and  were 
determined  to  set  up  their  king  whether  Labotsibeni  and 
Lomwazi  liked  it  or  not.  On  my  part,  I  was  practically 
pledged  to  keep  peace  in  Swaziland  and  could  not  be 
party  to  a  war,  even  if  it  meant  the  success  of  my  enter- 
prise. Keeping  this  thought  in  mind,  I  addressed  the 
queen  before  Tuys  could  reply. 

"Nkosikaas,  Mother  of  the  King,"  I  said  as  impres- 

333 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

sively  as  I  could,  "this  is  talk  of  war!  We  must  not  have 
killing.  Your  son  must  not  gain  his  throne  through 
bloodshed. 

"This  would  be  a  poor  business,  Nkosikaas.  The 
government  would  not  sanction  his  taking  the  throne  by 
force  and  he  would  be  driven  out  by  the  rifles  of  the 
English.  War  must  be  avoided  at  all  costs,  since  Sebuza 
would  lose,  even  if  he  won!" 

I  went  on  at  length,  pointing  out  the  fooHshness  of 
war  and  trying  to  get  the  queen  and  the  indunas  to 
change  their  minds.  I  could  see  that  the  indunas  were 
set  on  war,  and  they  had  convinced  Tzaneen  that  it  was 
the  only  way.  Down  in  my  heart  I  had  a  sort  of 
feeling  that  they  were  right. 

Tuys  also  backed  me  up  and  talked  of  the  mistakes 
made  by  the  Swazis  when  he  was  young.  He  explained 
that  they  must  obey  the  government  and  told  them  how 
impossible  it  would  be  for  them  to  wage  war  against 
Labotsibeni  without  its  consent.  He  made  a  good  argu- 
ment against  killing  and  practically  converted  the  queen. 

Then  Sebuza  came  in!  With  him  was  Lochien  and  a 
number  of  the  younger  indunas.  Immediately  the 
debate  became  heated.  Lochien  took  our  side,  but 
Sebuza  and  his  men  sided  with  the  indunas  from  Stegea. 
The  queen  remained  neutral,  though  I  felt  she  would 
have  liked  to  come  out  for  war.  It  was  Sebuza  who 
made  the  deciding  speech. 

"Who  am  I  that  I  am  kept  out  of  my  kingdom?"  he 
almost  shouted.     "I,  the  son  of  Buno  and  grandson  of 

334 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Umbandine!  I  have  thousands  and  thousands  of  war- 
riors, and  all  the  people  of  my  country  wait  for  me  to 
become  king.  All  my  indunas  and  warriors  wait  for  me 
to  give  the  word,  when  they  will  sweep  over  the  land 
and  crush  Labotsibeni  and  Lomwazi! 

"I  call  for  war!  I  call  to  my  people  to  come  to  me 
and  destroy  those  who  hold  the  throne  from  Sebuza, 
son  of  Buno!" 

With  this  kindly  thought  the  prince  sat  down,  and  I 
could  see  that  practically  all  the  indunas  were  in  favor 
of  his  suggestions.  It  looked  as  though  we  were  to 
have  a  civil  war  whether  we  wanted  it  or  not.  But  I 
thought  of  Commissioner  Honey's  remarks  and  decided 
to  make  another  effort  to  avoid  a  conflict. 

I  suggested  to  the  queen  that  the  indunas  be  dis- 
missed and  that  we  hold  a  conference  to  decide  the 
question  of  whether  or  not  there  should  be  war.  When 
the  indunas  had  gone,  there  was  a  sort  of  "executive 
session"  attended  by  the  queen,  Sebuza,  Lochien,  Vila- 
kazi,  Oom  Tuys,  and  myself. 

Tuys  and  I  brought  up  the  question  of  what  would 
happen  to  all  present  if  the  indunas  of  Tzaneen  and 
Sebuza  were  allowed  to  precipitate  war.  We  told  them 
of  the  misery  it  would  cause  their  people,  and  finally 
reminded  them  that  the  British  Government  would  take 
a  hand  and  that  they  would  either  be  driven  out  of  their 
country  or  executed.  This  last  thought  struck  home. 
Nevertheless,  they  were  so  exasperated  at  the  state  of 

335 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

affairs  that  it  loked  as  though  they  were  ahnost  willing 
to  take  a  chance. 

"But  we  have  more  than  five  thousand  warriors  here 
now,"  Sebuza  objected.  "These  brave  men  are  loyal 
to  me  and  came  here  to  see  me  crowned.  They  are 
willing  to  die  for  me,  and  I  dare  not  send  them  home 
to  their  kraals  to  say  that  I,  the  son  of  Buno,  am  afraid 
to  take  my  throne.  Labotsibeni  has  few  warriors,  and 
I  have  heard  that  these  will  desert  her  if  there  is  a  war. 
We  could  seize  the  throne  with  little  killing.  Only 
Lomwazi,  perhaps,  need  be  killed!" 

That  last  statement  came  from  the  heart.  I  could 
see  that  Sebuza  had  hard  feelings  for  his  uncle  and  he 
looked  as  if  he  would  enjoy  the  job  of  removing  Labot- 
sibeni's  able  counsellor. 

His  remark  about  there  being  so  many  warriors  at 
Lebombo  gave  me  an  idea.  It  flashed  through  my 
troubled  head  that  it  might  be  a  good  idea  to  "pull  a 
bluff"  on  Labotsibeni,  as  the  Americans  say. 

"You  say  you  have  more  than  five  thousand  warriors 
here  waiting  for  you  to  give  the  word  for  war,"  I  said, 
turning  to  Sebuza.  "Are  you  sure  that  Labotsibeni  has 
few  warriors  and  that  these  will  not  remain  faithful?" 

Sebuza  repeated  his  statement,  and  both  Lochien  and 
Vilakazi  agreed  with  him. 

"Then  let  us  make  a  demonstration  on  Zombode," 
I  went  on.  "Let  us  get  all  the  warriors  of  Sebuza  and 
the  queen,  and  also  those  of  Umzulek,  and  march  on 
the  royal  kraal  of  Labotsibeni.     When  we  arrive  there, 

336 


CROWN  PRINCE  SEBUZA  IN  FESTIVAL  DRESS 
The  headdress  consists  of  anything  that  is  colored,  perhaps  «.  few jok.!^  feathers  or 
colored  paper  (probably  removed  from  a  jam-tm).    The  f'^klace  consists  of  l^adsvvorked  into 
various  ornaments  and  patterns.    The  anklets  are  made  from  the  hides  of  ^ild  beasts 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

let  the  impis  deploy  so  that  their  number  is  so  many 
that  it  cannot  be  counted. 

"When  all  is  ready,  the  warriors  will  dance  as  though 
for  war.  After  a  little  we  shall  send  messengers  to 
Labotsibeni  and  demand  that  she  abdicate.  Lomwazi 
will  see  that  we  have  an  overwhelming  force  and  will 
advise  her  to  do  so,  and  thus  Sebuza  will  receive  the 
throne  of  his  father!" 

My  suggestion  met  with  the  unqualified  approval  of 
all  the  Swazis,  particularly  Sebuza  and  his  mother. 
Oom  Tuys,  however,  spoke  quickly  to  me  in  Dutch. 

"Remind  them  that  this  is  only  a  demonstration, 
Owen,  and  that  there  must  be  no  killing,"  he  said. 

I  turned  to  the  others  again. 

"Nkosikaas,  you  must  instruct  your  indunas  that  this 
is  to  be  only  a  peaceful  demonstration,"  I  told  the  queen. 
"You  must  tell  them  that  the  warrior  who  makes  an 
attempt  to  kill  will  be  executed.  There  must  be  no 
mistake  about  this.  Prince  Sebuza  must  also  tell  his 
indunas  this,  and  they  must  understand  fully  that  this 
is  not  war — it  is  only  make-believe." 

All  promised  to  see  that  these  instructions  were 
carried  out,  and  then  we  arranged  the  details  of  the 
demonstration.  It  was  set  for  the  day  after  the  next 
new  moon,  or  about  ten  days  hence.  In  the  meantime 
all  the  warriors  that  could  be  notified  were  to  be  rallied 
at  Lebombo,  so  that  the  impis  of  the  queen  and  Sebuza 
would  be  as  large  and  imposing  as  possible.  At  the 
time  I  did  not  realize  that  this  last  suggestion  was  a 

337 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

mistake.  I  ought  to  have  remembered  that  it  would  be 
impossible  to  muster  the  warriors  loyal  to  our  faction 
without  those  of  the  opposite  persuasion  knowing  about 
it. 

The  day  of  the  demonstration  dawned  bright  and  fair. 
It  was  also  very  hot.  Tuys  and  the  rest  of  our  party 
were  up  early,  and  even  then  the  kraals  of  Lebombo 
seemed  alive  with  fighting  men.  Lochien  came  over 
before  breakfast  and  said  that  they  would  set  out  so  as 
to  reach  Zombode  before  noon.  This  meant  about  half- 
past  nine,  since  Labotsibeni's  kraal  was  about  a  two 
hours'  march  distant. 

It  was  an  imposing  spectacle  to  see  the  various  impis 
assemble  in  such  formation  as  they  knew.  Tzaneen  and 
Sebuza  each  had  their  own  impis,  wearing  a  distinguish- 
ing headdress.  In  addition,  the  men  from  Stegea  wore 
plumes  that  showed  they  were  the  "household  troops" 
of  Umzulek.  The  other  impis  were  more  or  less  non- 
descript, but  their  warriors  were  picked  men.  Every 
man  had  on  his  full  war  costume  and  they  made  a  brave 
array.  The  indunas  could  be  distinguished  by  their 
more  splendid  regalia  and  bearing,  and  even  I  was  sur- 
prised to  see  what  fine  types  of  savages  these  were. 

Sugden,  Crespinell,  Tuys,  and  I  bore  our  rifles  and 
side-arms  so  as  to  carry  out  the  semblance  of  war,  and 
we  four  marched  at  the  head  of  the  army.  The  impis 
were  strung  out  along  the  roadway,  and  when  I  looked 
back  I  felt  certain  that  we  had  many  more  than  five 
thousand  fighting  men  behind  us.     With  us  at  the 

338 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

head  of  the  troops  went  L'Tunga,  Vilkazi,  Lochien,  and 
Makets,  the  latter  the  head  induna  of  Umzulek's  impi. 

We  halted  at  the  httle  stream  that  marks  the  dividing 
line  between  Zombode  and  Lebomo  and  I  took  occasion 
to  again  impress  on  the  indunas  the  fact  that  we  were 
about  to  make  a  peaceful  demonstration.  I  knew  that 
word  must  have  reached  Lomwazi  that  we  were  coming, 
and  I  hoped  his  spies  had  exaggerated  our  numbers  so 
that  he  would  realize  how  hopeless  it  was  to  resist. 

Sebuza  had  remained  with  his  mother  at  Lebombo. 
This  was  to  show  that  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  our 
warhke  strategy.  He  was  to  stay  there  until  sent  for 
by  his  people  to  take  over  the  throne. 

I  had  one  bad  moment  when  we  deployed  in  front 
of  Zombode.  We  were  stretched  out  for  more  than 
a  quarter  of  a  mile — ^it  must  have  been  nearer  a  half — 
and  the  formation  was  made  while  we  were  at  least  five 
or  six  hundred  yards  from  the  kraals.  With  my  field- 
glasses  I  could  see  great  numbers  of  warriors  lying  or 
sitting  in  front  of  the  village.  The  grass  was  high,  so 
that  I  could  make  no  actual  estimate  of  how  many  there 
were.  I  could  glimpse  thousands  of  headdresses  above 
the  grass,  however,  and  there  appeared  to  be  a  bank  of 
men  on  the  ground  surrounding  the  kraals. 

Now  it  had  been  planned  that  our  army  should  ad- 
vance in  solid  formation  right  across  the  little  plain 
until  it  came  within  about  two  hundred  yards  of  the 
huts.  When  it  halted  a  signal  was  to  be  given,  and  then 
the  war  dancing  would  begin. 

339 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

We  went  forward,  our  little  party  between  the  impis 
of  Tzaneen  and  the  prince,  and  I  could  feel  the  excite- 
ment growing.  On  both  sides  of  me  grim  warriors 
fingered  their  weapons  and  their  eyes  flashed.  I  had  the 
feeling  that  I  was  on  top  of  a  powder-magazine  with 
lightning  striking  all  around. 

Lochien  was  several  paces  in  the  lead,  and  it  was  he 
who  was  to  give  the  signal.  On  we  went,  until  I  began 
to  think  he  had  lost  his  head  and  forgotten  the  orders. 
Suddenly  he  threw  up  his  hands,  his  shield  gleaming 
dully  in  the  sun,  and  halted.  Instantly  the  whole  army 
stopped — and  then  came  my  bad  moment! 

Diamond-points  of  sunlight  flashed  from  a  thousand 
spearheads  as  impi  after  impi  rose  from  the  ground 
around  Zombode.  In  that  brief  moment  there  seemed 
to  be  countless  warriors,  fully  armed,  standing  guard 
at  the  old  queen's  kraal. 

We  fairly  gasped  with  astonishment.  Tuys  threw 
his  rifle  forward  and  I  heard  the  breech-lock  click.  He 
was  as  amazed  as  the  rest  of  us,  and  his  instinct  warned 
of  trouble. 

"What  a  surprise!"  he  said,  turning  quickly  to  me. 
"Now  we  *re  in  for  it!  Keep  close,  lad,  and  we  '11  win 
through !" 

Before  I  could  reply,  Lochien  began  dancing.  In 
another  moment  our  entire  army  was  chanting  and 
springing  up  and  down  like  madmen. 

"Soukbulala!  Soukbulala !— I  will  kill  you!  I  will 
kill  you!"  they  shouted.     From  individual  shouts  this 

340 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

quickly  fell  into  a  sort  of  rude  rhythm,  its  heavy  bass 
rolling  away  across  the  plain. 

Immediately  the  warriors  at  the  kraals  commenced 
their  dance,  and  their  shouts  reached  us  with  the  snap 
of  gunshots.  Our  men  waved  their  knob-kerries,  asse- 
gais, and  shields  in  the  air,  and  Labotsibeni's  home  guard 
did  the  same.  The  air  was  full  of  murderous  tools  and 
we  were  surrounded  by  giant  savages  who  seemed  to 
have  suddenly  gone  mad. 

This  awful  bedlam  lasted  for  some  time.  Actually, 
it  was  six  minutes  by  my  watch,  but  such  a  six  minutes ! 
Every  second  I  expected  to  see  some  of  our  warriors 
dash  forward  and  attack  the  enemy. 

L'Tunga  came  to  himself  first.  He  sprang  out  to 
Lochien,  who  still  danced  in  front  of  us  all,  and  caught 
him  by  the  arms.  Lochien  stopped  dancing,  and  a 
second  later  he  turned  to  our  army  and  threw  up  his 
arms.  Like  a  statue  he  held  the  great  shield  above  his 
head,  standing  there  as  though  suddenly  turned  to 
bronze. 

This  was  a  signal  for  the  dance  to  cease.  In  a  little 
time  our  warriors  saw  him  and  quieted  down,  only  their 
agitated  plumes  showing  that  their  excitement  was  not 
wholly  dead.  Labotsibeni's  warriors  caught  the  change, 
and  soon  they,  too,  became  quiet.  They  swayed  to  and 
fro  in  front  of  the  kraals,  but  remained  as  silent  as  our 
impis. 

L'Tunga  and  Lochien  came  back  hurriedly  to  us  for 
a  conference. 

341 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"Nkoos,  this  is  not  what  we  expected,"  Lochien  said 
to  me  in  an  anxious  tone.  "We  did  n't  believe  Labotsi- 
beni  could  muster  so  many  men.  What  shall  we  do 
now?  Shall  we  go  through  with  the  plan,  or  fight? 
Perhaps  it  is  better  to  fight.  We  have  more  than  five 
thousand  warriors,  and  they  cannot  have  more  than 
about  three  thousand.     Shall  we  fight?" 

"No !  No !"  I  replied  most  emphatically.  "Go  through 
with  the  plan  as  arranged.  Tell  Labotsibeni  that  you 
have  many  more  warriors  than  she  has.  Tell  her  that 
you  don't  want  to  have  any  killing,  but  that  she  must 
surrender  the  throne." 

"Wouldn't  it  be  better  to  fight?"  Lochien  insisted, 
and  I  could  see  that  the  blood-lust  had  him. 

I  threw  my  rifle  to  my  shoulder  with  the  muzzle 
dangerously  close  to  his  head. 

"I  shall  kill  the  first  man  who  tries  to  fight,"  I  said. 
"If  he  is  a  warrior,  I  '11  shoot  him  once;  if  an  induna, 
twice ;  and  if  he  is  one  of  the  royal  blood,  I  '11  fill  him 
full  of  holes!" 

This  settled  the  question.  Lochien  thought  my  threat 
was  real — and  he  was  not  fooling  himself  much,  either. 

L'Tunga,  who  had  a  wide  reputation  throughout 
Swaziland  as  a  witch-doctor,  then  went  forward,  accom- 
panied by  Lochien,  Makets,  and  several  others.  They 
made  the  peace  sign  and  went  halfway  across  the  de- 
batable ground  between  the  two  armies.  Here  they 
waited  for  a  few  moments  only,  and  then  Lomwazi  and 
half  a  dozen  indunas  came  to  meet  them.    I  would  have 

342 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

given  much  to  have  heard  that  conversation.     After  a 
short  talk  Lomwazi  led  our  envoys  into  the  village. 

No  sooner  were  they  out  of  sight  than  Labotsibeni's 
men  again  began  dancing  and  shouting  their  war-cries. 
I  could  feel  our  warriors  tightening  up,  and  shouted  for 
Vilakazi.  I  told  him  to  watch  closely  and  prevent  any 
warrior  from  breaking  ranks,  and  demanded  that  he 
stop  them  from  dancing.  He  went  along  the  ranks  and 
spoke  to  the  indunas,  who  turned  and  yelled  at  their 
men.  In  spite  of  this,  I  could  see  the  plumes  beginning 
to  sway  and  felt  that  it  would  not  be  long  before  they 
were  at  it  again.  This  time  I  doubted  whether  we  could 
stop  them  if  the  "enemy"  began  taunting  them. 

Labotsibini's  men  shouted  and  jumped,  and  presently 
one  or  two  began  running  forward  a  short  distance.  A 
warrior  would  seemingly  be  overcome  by  his  emotions 
and  would  make  a  quick  dash  into  the  "No  Man's  Land" 
between  the  forces,  using  up  his  energy  by  a  particularly 
violent  fit  of  dancing.  When  this  was  spent  he  would 
hop  back  to  his  place  near  the  kraal,  yelling  all  the  while. 

I  realized  the  danger  of  this  sort  of  thing.  If  these 
enthusiastic  savages  came  far  enough,  they  would  tempt 
some  of  our  men  to  dance  out  and  meet  them.  This 
would  mean  a  killing.  There  would  be  some  rapid  blows 
with  the  knob-kerries,  accompanied  by  the  hollow  thud 
when  the  shields  caught  the  strokes,  and  finally  one  blow 
would  go  home  and  the  victim  would  drop.  Like  a  flash 
would  come  the  stab  of  the  assegai  and  there  would  be  a 
dead  man  on  the  ground! 

343 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Our  indunas  knew  this  better  than  I  did,  and  they 
walked  up  and  down  before  their  excited  warriors 
watching  for  the  first  man  to  break  ranks.  Tuys  and 
I  held  our  rifles  ready,  fully  intending  to  shoot  the  first 
warrior  who  started  for  the  middle  ground.  It  was  a 
ticklish  position  and  my  white  companions  stood  ner- 
vously waiting  for  the  break  they  felt  was  coming. 

At  the  moment  when  it  seemed  as  though  the  dam 
must  burst  and  our  men  get  beyond  control,  a  sudden 
silence  came  over  the  shouting  lunatics  at  the  kraals. 
I  understood  the  reason  when  I  saw  our  envoys  coming 
out  of  the  royal  kraal,  still  escorted  by  Lomwazi  and 
his  indunas.  Amid  deep  silence  they  walked  slowly  to 
the  spot  where  they  had  met  before  and  stopped  long 
enough  to  ceremoniously  salute  each  other.  Then  Lom- 
wazi and  his  bodyguard  returned  to  the  village  and 
L'Tunga  and  the  others  came  to  where  we  stood. 

They  appeared  angry  and  worried.  Lochien  also 
looked  dejected,  and  Tuys  and  I  listened  while  L'Tunga 
made  his  report. 

"Queen  Labotsibeni  sends  word  that  she  will  not  sur- 
render the  throne,  Nkoos,"  he  said.  "She  told  me  to  tell 
our  queen  that  she  must  die  before  the  throne  passed  to 
Sebuza,  and  not  after." 

Evidently  the  old  queen  had  made  up  her  mind  that 
the  government  could  not  protect  her  from  the  sacrifice 
if  she  allowed  Sebuza  to  become  king. 

"When  I  told  her  that  we  had  many  more  warriors 
than  she  had,"  the  witch-doctor  went  on,  "she  declared 

344 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

that  her  indunas  would  fight  to  the  death,  that  so  long 
as  she  held  Zombode  she  was  Queen  of  Swaziland!" 

I  could  picture  the  old  queen  when  she  delivered  this 
defiance.  Blind,  too  weak  to  stand,  and  more  than  one 
hundred  years  old,  her  spirit  was  still  unbroken,  her 
courage  undiminished!  She  had  lived  like  a  queen  and 
evidently  had  made  up  her  mind  to  die  like  one. 

Both  armies  remained  quiet  while  we  held  a  council 
of  war.  Makets  insisted  that  we  attack  Zombode;  he 
thought  we  could  rush  the  village  and  take  it.  I  could 
see  that  he  was  carrying  out  instructions  that  Umzulek 
had  given  him  when  he  sent  him  to  Lebombo.  His  ad- 
vice was  given  in  a  torrent  of  words  that  I  had  difficulty 
in  stopping.    He  had  the  attack  all  planned. 

"Attack  with  fire !"  he  almost  yelled,  for  he  was  much 
excited  and  in  deadly  earnest.  "First  the  impis  of 
Tzaneen,  Sebuza,  and  Umzulek  will  attack  those  on 
guard.  After  them  will  come  the  others,  carrying  fire. 
While  we  fight,  the  torch-bearers  will  break  through  and 
burn  the  ki^aals !" 

He  had  it  all  planned  out  and  I  could  perceive  the 
cunning  mind  of  his  chief  at  work.  JNIakets  wanted  a 
bloody  holocaust  that  would  bring  back  the  old  days 
with  a  vengeance.  I  had  heard  of  such  attacks  when  the 
Boers  and  British  wiped  out  offending  tribes,  and  I 
knew  what  such  a  thing  meant — a  massacre,  with  the 
women  and  children  burned  to  death  I 

I  finally  silenced  ]Makets,  but  barely  in  time.  He  had 
almost  fired  the  others  with  his  bloodthirstiness,  and  for 

345 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

a  moment  I  was  afraid  they  would  bolt  and  start  the 
carnage.  L'Tmiga  came  to  my  assistance,  and  a  moment 
later  Lochien  joined  the  anti-war  party  which  Tuys  and 
I  headed.  Our  argument  lasted  a  long  time,  but  iSnally 
we  prevailed. 

"Indunas  and  leaders  of  the  true  king's  impis,"  I  said 
at  the  conclusion  of  our  council.  "We  have  shown 
Queen  Labotsibeni  and  Lomwazi  that  their  nonsense 
must  end.  They  know  now  that  a  maj  ority  of  the  loyal 
warriors  of  Swaziland  are  behind  the  son  of  Buno  and 
they  are  afraid!  Let  us  take  our  impis  back  to  Le- 
bombo,  and  to-morrow  we  will  send  to  Labotsibeni  and 
demand  that  she  give  up  the  throne.  She  is  afraid  that 
she  will  be  killed,  according  to  the  ancient  custom,  and 
for  that  reason  refuses  to  abdicate.  We  white  men  will 
pledge  ourselves  to  guard  her  and  escort  her  to  Portu- 
gese territory,  where  she  will  be  safe.  When  she  hears 
this,  she  will  have  no  hesitation  in  permitting  Sebuza  to 
be  crowned." 

This  reasoning  seemed  good  to  Lochien,  L'Tunga, 
and  the  others,  except  Makets,  who  grumbled  a  bit  and 
stiU  wanted  to  end  the  business  then  and  there.  I  sus- 
pect that  he  hated  the  thought  that  he  would  have  to 
report  to  Umzulek  that  there  had  been  no  fighting  and 
that  Lomwazi  had  escaped. 

Our  warriors  were  squatting  on  the  ground  when  the 
command  was  given  for  the  return  to  Lebombo.  They 
rose  at  once,  and  Labotsibeni's  watch-dogs  also  sprang 
to  their  feet.    These  expected  that  we  were  about  to  at- 

346 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

tack,  and  so  were  greatly  puzzled  when  our  army  turned 
about  and  started  off  slowly  for  Lebombo.  Their  silence 
lasted  only  a  few  minutes,  however.  Then  they  broke 
out  into  re\  ilings  and  taunts  that  would  have  made  a 
saint  fight.  Our  impis  grew  more  and  more  sullen  un- 
der this  volley  of  insults,  and  went  away  from  Zombode 
with  murder  in  their  hearts  and  the  feeling  that  they 
would  have  many  explanations  to  make  when  they  re- 
turned to  the  home  kraals. 

I  was  sorry  that  our  bluff  had  failed,  but  very  thank- 
ful that  we  had  pulled  through  without  bloodshed.  Tuys 
walked  along  beside  me,  silent  and  thoughtful.  When 
Lebombo 's  kraals  came  in  sight  he  told  me  what  was 
on  his  mind. 

"Owen,  my  lad,  I  know  these  people,"  he  said,  "and 
I  'm  afriad  that  your  peaceful  ruse  will  cause  trouble. 
The  Swazi  warrior  is  a  proud  man  and  does  not  like  to 
be  called  names.  I  pray  that  we  may  get  through  the 
next  few  days  without  an  explosion." 

I  made  light  of  his  forebodings,  though  probably  my 
attitude  was  due  to  our  having  withdrawn  without  a 
battle.  Had  I  known  what  was  going  to  happen,  I 
would  not  have  been  so  lighthearted. 

Tzaneen  and  Sebuza  were  angry  at  our  failure.  The 
prince,  of  course,  was  indignant  that  we  had  accepted 
the  insults  of  Labotsibeni's  troops  and  was  quite  rude 
to  Oom  Tuys  and  me  for  preventing  the  capture  of 
Zombode. 

"It  would  have  all  been  over  by  this  time,"  he  said, 

347 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

"and  I  would  be  king!  My  impis  have  lost  faith  in  me 
for  permitting  you  white  men  to  do  this  thing.  I  shall 
lose  my  warriors.  They  will  go  over  to  Labotsibeni 
and  Lomwazi  because  they  are  not  afraid." 

Then  I  explained  to  him  and  his  mother  about  our 
plan  to  send  a  message  to  Labotsibeni  on  the  following 
day.  When  they  heard  that  we  white  men  would  guard 
the  old  queen  and  escort  her  to  safety,  they  thought  that 
it  might  succeed.  Sebuza,  though,  very  pointedly  men- 
tioned the  fact  that  according  to  custom  the  old  queen 
ought  to  die.  I  protested  that  she  was  too  old  and 
feeble  to  do  him  any  harm  after  he  became  king,  and 
he  agreed  that  I  was  right. 

He  was  insistent,  however,  that  Lomwazi  should  die. 
He  felt  that  Lomwazi  would  be  a  menace  to  the  throne 
and,  it  seems,  had  some  old  scores  he  wanted  to  pay  off. 
We  argued  over  this  for  some  time,  and  Sebuza,  on 
the  urging  of  his  mother,  finally  came  around  to  our 
point  of  view.  Yet  I  had  the  feeling  that  we  would  have 
to  move  fast  to  prevent  an  accident  happening  to 
Lomwazi. 

I  little  realized  that  all  this  talk  was  for  nothing. 
My  nice  little  plan,  which  sounded  so  simple,  would 
never  even  be  tried ! 

That  night  Tuys  and  I  arranged  the  details  of  the 
next  day.  We  planned  to  take  the  wagonette  and  use 
it  to  transport  Labotsibeni  and  Lomwazi  to  Portuguese 
territory.  We  would  walk  beside  it  with  our  rifles  ready 
and  protect  the  old  queen  with  our  lives.     We  both 

348 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

felt  that  the  safest  thing  to  do  with  Lomwazi  would  be 
to  hide  him  inside  and  we  spent  some  time  arranging 
the  vehicle  so  that  he  could  be  concealed  within.  Of 
course  he  would  be  found  easily  if  the  wagonette  was 
searched,  but  we  intended  to  prevent  that,  even  if  we 
had  to  fight  off  curious  kaffirs. 

In  high  hopes  that  we  had  reached  the  end  of  the 
trail  and  that  the  coronation  was  at  last  in  sight,  we 
went  to  bed.  Sugden  and  Crespinell  were  ^lad,  too, 
since  they  had  had  their  fill  of  Swaziland  and  wanted 
to  go  home. 

But  our  real  trq^ibles  were  only  beginning. 

Tuys  waked  me  roughly  next  morning  before  day- 
break. He  was  much  excited,  and  I  could  see  that  he 
was  fully  dressed  and  had  his  rifle  in  his  hand. 

"Get  up!  Get  up  at  once,  Owen!"  he  said  hoarsely. 
"There  is  the  devil  to  pay!  War  has  broken  out  and 
there  has  been  killing  already!" 

I  jumped  out  of  bed  and  into  my  clothes  in  one 
motion.  While  I  pulled  them  on  he  told  me  what  had 
happened. 

"Some  of  Sebuza's  indunas  started  for  their  kraals 
last  night,"  he  said.  "They  went  by  way  of  Zombode, 
and  when  they  passed  the  little  hill  just  before  you 
reach  the  plain  they  were  attacked  by  several  score 
of  Labotsibeni's  warriors  and  every  one  of  them  was 
killed!  It  was  cold-blooded  murder.  They  must  have 
been  outnumbered  about  ten  to  one!" 

It  seems  that  an  induna  and  his  men  had  lagged  be- 

349 


AD\^]SrTUIlES  IN  SWAZILAND 

hind  the  others  and  had  seen  the  ambush.  From  their 
description  it  was  a  most  unexpected  and  brutal  attack. 
Sebuza's  indunas  tried  to  put  up  a  fight  and  resisted  for 
a  short  time.  Then  the  enemy  overpowered  them  and 
stabbed  them  to  death. 

So  it  was  war  after  all!  In  spite  of  my  efforts  to 
prevent  it,  the  question  of  who  should  be  ruler  of  Swazi- 
land was  to  be  settled  in  the  old-fashioned  way. 

Tuys  and  I  went  to  the  royal  kraal  and  found 
Tzaneen  and  Lochien  already  up.  Thousands  of  war- 
riors and  scores  of  indunas  were  on  guard  and  the  whole 
place  was  in  whirl  of  excitement.  As  we  forced  our  way 
to  the  royal  hut,  Sebuza  came  marching  in  surrounded 
by  his  young  indunas,  all  of  whom  were  officers  in  his 
impis.  The  prince  pushed  by  us  into  his  mother's  hut 
and  a  second  later  Lochien  came  out  and  beckoned  us 
to  enter. 

As  soon  as  she  saw  us.  Queen  Tzaneen  motioned  us 
to  her  side. 

"It  is  war  now,"  she  said  decisively.  "There  is  no 
other  way!  Our  indunas  have  been  murdered  and  my 
warriors  cannot  be  restrained.  You  white  men  did 
everything  you  could  to  keep  peace,  but  Labotsibeni 
makes  war  against  us  and  we  cannot  help  ourselves. 
It  is  war!" 

The  others  echoed  the  word  "war,"  and  I  could  see 
that  they  were  all  pleased  at  the  prospect.  Even  Lochien, 
peace-loving  though  he  was,  realized  that  there  was  no 
help  for  it  and  counselled  quick  action  to  secure  the  cap- 

350 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

ture  of  Zombode.  Makets  was  in  his  glory  and  I  knew 
that  the  smell  of  blood  was  already  in  his  nostrils. 

But  I  would  not  give  up.  I  could  not  see  these  people 
go  to  war  and  I  made  one  last  attempt  to  prevent  it. 

"The  government  will  avenge  the  murder  of  your 
indunas,  Nkosikaas,"  I  declared.  "The  government  will 
send  rifles  to  Zombode  and  will  hang  all  those  who  did 
the  killing.  There  is  no  need  for  you  to  meet  murder 
with  murder — ^then  you  will  be  also  punished  by  the  gov- 
ernment's rifles!  Thousands  will  be  killed,  and  need- 
lessly, for  those  at  Mbabane  will  send  white  troops  to 
catch  the  murderers  and  hang  them." 

They  listened  while  I  spoke,  but  I  could  feel  that  I 
was  talking  against  a  flood  that  was  irresistible.  Tzaneen 
answered  me,  and  her  words  met  the  hearty  approval 
of  all  the  others. 

"We  do  not  need  the  government  to  avenge  our  dead," 
she  said,  holding  her  head  erect  with  pride.  "Our 
dead  are  our  own  and  their  blood  cries  to  us  for  revenge !" 

That  seemed  to  settle  it.  They  asked  us  to  take  part 
in  the  war,  but  we  flatly  refused.  We  told  them  that  it 
was  not  a  "white  man's  war"  and  that  we  would  have 
nothing  to  do  with  it.  Then  Sebuza,  with  his  customary 
impudence,  asked  me  to  lend  him  my  rifle.  I  refused, 
and  he  grew  quite  huffy  about  it. 

"You  gave  my  father.  King  Buno,  a  rifle,"  he  re- 
torted. "I  shall  soon  be  as  great  a  king  and  then  you 
will  be  sorry  you  refused!" 

I  realized  he  might  be  speaking  the  truth,  but  never- 

351 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

theless  would  not  let  him  have  the  gun.  I  would  have 
felt  guilty  of  any  killing  he  did  with  it  and  I  know  the 
government  would  have  taken  the  same  view. 

When  Tuys  and  I  got  back  to  our  camp  we  imme- 
diately held  a  council  of  war.  Our  position  was  dan- 
gerous. If  Labotsibeni's  men  attacked  Lebombo,  we 
might  have  to  fight  for  our  lives.  We  were  known  as 
friends  of  Tzaneen  and  Sebuza,  and  our  taking  part  in 
the  "demonstration"  of  the  day  before  had  shown  all 
Swaziland  that  we  were  not  friendly  to  Labotsibeni  and 
Lomwazi.  Realizing  that  we  might  have  to  fight  and 
not  caring  to  take  advantage  of  the  slim  protection  of 
the  kraals,  we  built  up  the  sides  of  the  great  wagon  so 
that  it  became  more  like  a  fort  than  anything  else.  In 
addition,  we  arranged  for  night  watches,  so  that  there 
would  always  be  at  least  one  white  man  on  guard,  with 
several  of  the  black  boys  to  assist  him.  Of  course  I  had 
Sibijaan  assigned  to  my  watch,  while  Tuis  was  to  watch 
with  Oom  Tuys,  with  whom  he  had  become  a  favorite. 
Crespinell  and  Sugden  each  had  their  boys,  and  we  felt 
that  there  would  be  little  chance  for  a  surprise  attack  on 
the  wagon,  if  matters  worked  out  as  planned. 

An  interesting  development  in  our  preparations  for 
defense  was  the  sudden  discovery  that  "Gunga  Din" 
was  a  soldier.  He  came  to  me,  asked  for  one  of  the 
spare  rifles,  and  handled  it  like  a  veteran.  Like  all 
Indians,  he  had  a  great  contempt  for  negroes,  and  he 
seemed  delighted  over  the  prospect  that  he  might  have 
a  chance  to  shoot  a  few  Swazis.    Instead  of  being  wor- 

352 


LOCHIEN,  COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF  OF  PRINCE  SEBUZA'S  IMPIS 
On  either  side  stand  two  of  his  indunas,  or  captains 


WARRIORS  OF  PRINCE  SEBUZA'S  IMPIS  STARTING  OUT  TO  BATTLE 

The  enemy  was  but  a  short  distance  away  and  his  warriors  were  coming  forward  in  like 

manner  to  meet  those  of  the  Prince 


§1 


.2^ 
IS 


S  E- 


—  o 
^•1 


Sc 


O  0^ 


£•3 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

ried  about  the  turn  of  affairs,  Din  was  bucked  up  by  it 
and  produced  a  large  crooked  knife  from  among  his 
effects,  sticking  in  his  belt  where  it  could  be  readily 
reached.  It  developed  that  our  chef  was  a  fighting 
man,  after  all. 

All  that  morning  excitement  prevailed  at  the  kraals. 
There  was  much  dancing,  and  the  chanting  was  con- 
tinuous. I  could  see  thousands  of  warriors  on  hand  and 
during  the  afternoon  a  fresh  impi  arrived  from  the  direc- 
tion of  Stegea.  These,  however,  did  not  look  like 
Umzulek's  men,  for  they  wore  no  distinguishing  mark. 

We  were  all  curious  to  know  what  was  going  to 
happen.  I  made  another  visit  to  the  royal  kraal  late 
that  afternoon  and  was  met  by  Vilakazi.  He  was  friend- 
ly enough,  but  professed  to  be  ignorant  of  what  w^as 
planned  and  ended  by  advising  me  to  return  to  my 
camp.  He  gave  me  to  understand,  politely  but  firmly, 
that  only  those  who  intended  fighting  were  desired  at 
the  royal  kraal.  Finding  that  I  was  not  wanted,  I  took 
his  advice  and  returned  to  camp  to  tell  Tuys  about  it. 

"Vilakazi  has  more  sense  that  you  have,  Owen,"  he 
commented.  "You  said  that  this  was  not  a  white  man's 
war  and  you  'd  better  Hve  up  to  that.  Do  n't  worry 
about  what 's  going  to  happen;  it  will  be  bad  enough 
when  it  gets  here." 

So  I  decided  to  mind  my  own  business  and  try  to 
meet  whatever  trouble  was  coming  our  way  when  it 
arrived.  It  was  as  well  that  I  did.  I  could  do  nothing 
except  hope  that  the  conflict  would  be  as  short  and 

353 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

bloodless  as  possible.  I  had  done  everything  possible 
to  keep  peace. 

Late  that  afternoon  I  saw  a  number  of  small  impis 
— bands  of  warriors  numbering  about  one  hundred  and 
jSfty  men — leave  the  kraals  and  take  to  the  hills  in  the 
general  direction  of  Zombode.  These,  Tuys  explained 
to  me,  were  ambush  parties  whose  work  it  was  to  lie 
in  wait  for  warriors  who  might  be  rallying  to  the  assist- 
ance of  the  old  queen. 

"They  are  murder  parties,"  he  repeated,  calling  them 
by  their  right  name,  "and  they  will  also  act  as  scouts 
and  spies.  If  they  can  waylay  parties  of  inferior  num- 
bers, they  will  do  so  and  kill  every  one  of  them.  Of 
course  there  are  undoubtedly  a  number  of  such  parties 
abroad  now  who  belong  in  Zombode.  There  will  be  a 
carnival  of  murder  and  assassination  until  one  side  gets 
up  nerve  enough  to  attack  the  headquarters  of  the  other. 
All  I  hope  is  that  Tzaneen's  indunas  screw  their  courage 
to  the  attacking  point  first.  I  'd  prefer  to  have  this 
war  fought  out  at  Zombode,  and  not  here!" 

We  all  agreed  with  him  and  turned  in  that  night  "all 
standing."  I  did  not  go  to  sleep  until  very  late,  and 
it  seemed  only  a  few  minutes  before  Tuys  routed  me  out 
to  take  my  watch.  I  was  on  duty  from  about  midnight 
until  dawn,  but  nothing  disturbed  us. 


354 


CHAPTER  XX 

Lebombo  threatened  with  attack — Tzaneen  flies  to  us  for  protection — 
Victory  for  Sebuza — Labotsibeni's  mysterious  death — Lomwazi  spared 
for  execution  later — Funeral  sacrifice  of  the  old  queen — Queen  Tzaneen 
in  state — We  are  forced  to  join  the  royal  impi. 

THERE  must  have  been  important  developments 
during  the  night.  Shortly  before  sun-up  I  saw 
several  thousand  warriors  leaving  Lebombo  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  enemy.  They  marched  swiftly  and  silently, 
and  when  they  had  gone  i^e  kraals  appeared  deserted. 
I  wanted  to  send  Sibijaan  over  to  find  out  what  this 
movement  meant,  but  was  afraid  to  do  so  for  fear  that 
he  might  be  mistaken  for  an  enemy. 

When  Tuys  waked,  I  told  him  about  the  impis  leav- 
ing for  Zombode.  At  once  he  became  intensely  in- 
terested. 

"That  is  the  end!"  he  declared.  "We'll  know  who 
wins  the  war  by  noon.  Tzaneen's  impis  have  gone  to 
attack  Zombode,  and  I  hope  they  take  it.  The  sooner 
this  business  is  ended,  the  better  for  all  of  us." 

Shortly  before  noon  a  kafiir  came  out  of  the  royal 
kraal  and  shouted  in  our  direction.  He  waved  his 
shield,  and  I  sent  Sibijaan  to  see  what  he  wanted. 
Through  my  glasses  I  recognized  him  as  one  of  the  few 
old  indunas  I  had  seen  in  Swaziland.  There  are  prac- 
tically no  old  men  or  women  in  the  country.     This  is 

355 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

due  to  the  rigid  belief  in  the  doctrine  of  the  survival  of 
the  fittest,  the  old  ones  usually  being  removed  when 
unable  to  protect  themselves.  This  old  induna  was  some 
sort  of  an  officer  for  the  queen  and  acted  as  a  tutor  for 
Sebuza.  His  age  prevented  him  from  taking  part  in 
active  warfare. 

Sibijaan  talked  with  him  for  a  few  minutes,  and  then 
turned  and  raced  back  to  me.  He  was  terribly  excited 
and  could  hardly  deliver  the  message. 

"Ou  Baas,  there  is  great  danger !"  he  gasped.  "Queen 
Tzaneen  sends  to  you  for  help.  She  has  received  word 
that  the  impis  of  Labotsibeni  are  coming  to  attack  Le- 
bombo.  Thousands  of  warriors  are  now  in  the  hills  and 
will  soon  attack!" 

Tuys  and  I  were  puzzled  what  to  do.  Sugden  de- 
cided for  us.  With  his  ready  Yankee  wit,  he  hit  upon 
the  solution. 

"You  have  n't  any  chips  in  this  game,"  he  said,  "and 
you  Ve  got  to  keep  out  of  this  war.  But  there  's  nothing 
to  prevent  you  from  offering  sanctuary  to  a  fugitive 
king,  queen,  ace,  or  jack!  Send  to  Tzaneen  and  tell  her 
to  come  over  here,  and  we  '11  take  care  of  her  if  the 
enemy  comes!  We  '11  have  to  fight  for  our  own  lives 
anyway,  and  it  won't  matter  much  if  we  add  her  to  our 
responsibility." 

I  sent  Sibijaan  running  with  this  message,  and  it  was 
only  a  short  time  before  Queen  Tzaneen  arrived  with 
quite  unseemly  haste  at  our  camp.  In  spite  of  her  pre- 
carious position  she  kept  her  dignity,  and  we  helped 

356 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

her  up  into  the  big  wagon,  where  she  hid  under  the 
cover  with  four  of  her  maids -of -honor.  To  cahn  her 
nerves  we  gave  her  a  bottle  of  gin. 

Then  followed  one  of  those  periods  of  suspense  that 
seem  as  though  they  would  never  end.  I  searched  the 
hills  with  my  glasses,  scanning  every  tree  and  boulder 
for  the  oncoming  enemy.  Every  now  and  then  I  would 
start  when  I  saw  a  movement,  but  invariably  it  turned 
out  to  be  caused  by  either  a  cow  or  a  sheep.  We  prac- 
tically held  our  breath  for  about  four  hours,  waiting  for 
an  enemy  which  might  wipe  us  out.  That  was  a  long 
long  afternoon! 

About  the  time  the  shadow  from  the  barren  mountain 
fell  across  the  royal  kraal,  which  means  shortly  after 
five  o'clock,  our  suspense  came  to  an  end.  It  ended  with 
a  shock  that  I  will  never  forget. 

Tuys  and  I  were  still  searching  the  hills  when  Sibi- 
jaan  suddenly  gripped  my  arm,  his  hand  trembling  so 
that  I  almost  dropped  my  field-glasses. 

"Look!  Look,  Mzaan  Bakoor!"  he  cried,  pointing 
down  the  road  which  led  to  Zombode.  "There  they 
come!  Shoot  quick!  Shoot!" 

Through  the  glasses  I  could  see  what  looked  like  sev- 
eral impis  straggling  up  the  road.  They  marched  fast, 
but  without  much  attempt  at  formation.  As  I  watched 
I  could  see  that  many  of  the  warriors  were  dancing. 

I  felt  myself  grow  cold  and  hot  by  turns.  Our  time 
had  come !  It  was  the  army  of  Labotsibeni  advancing  to 
attack  Lebombo  and  kill  Tzaneen  and  her  white  friends. 

357 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Tuys  had  the  same  thought,  and  he  lowered  his  glasses 
and  looked  at  me.  A  veteran  campaigner,  nothing 
flustered  him,  but  he  wanted  to  see  how  it  affected  me. 
A  second  later  he  put  out  his  great  hard  hand  and  I 
shook  it  solemnly. 

"Well,  Owen,  we  '11  show  them  how  white  men  can 
fight — and  die,  if  need  be,"  he  said  gruffly.  "It  has 
been  a  good  game  and  we  have  done  our  best !" 

Sugden  and  Crespinell  were  watching  the  oncoming 
impis  and  coolly  comparing  the  sights  on  their  rifles, 
trying  to  agree  on  the  proper  distance  to  set  them.  This 
spoke  for  their  courage,  and  I  turned  my  glasses  on  the 
impis  again.  Tuys  was  studying  them,  and  suddenly 
he  began  to  laugh  in  that  deep  bass  way  he  has  when 
he  is  highly  amused. 

"We  're  damn  fools,  Owen,  damn  fools !"  he  rumbled, 
with  a  chuckle.  "Those  niggers  are  the  impis  of 
Tzaneen  and  Sebuza.  The  war  is  over!  They  are 
dancing  with  joy!  They  must  have  taken  Zombode  and 
are  coming  home  to  tell  us  about  it!" 

My  glasses  told  me  that  he  was  right.  My  eyes  are 
not  so  good  as  his  or  I  would  have  known  this  before. 
Now  I  could  see  that  the  warriors  were  drunk  with 
triumph  and  were  dancing  to  celebrate  their  victory. 
As  they  drew  closer  I  could  distinguish  Lochien  and 
Makets  at  their  head. 

I  called  to  Queen  Tzaneen  to  come  out,  and  informed 
her  that  her  army  was  victorious  and  approaching.  She 
climbed  down  from  the  wagon,  and  a  moment  later 

358 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

we  all  went  forward  to  meet  the  impis.  We  reached  the 
royal  kraal  shortly  before  Lochien  and  INIakets,  and 
we  white  men  stood  back  while  she  received  them. 

Seeing  the  queen  awaiting  them,  the  indunas  halted 
the  warriors  and  they  fell  into  formation.  Lochien 
paused  until  all  were  in  place  and  then  raised  his  arms 
in  salute.  The  impis  followed  his  lead  and  three  times 
the  royal  salute  was  given,  with  the  shrill  whistle  at  its 
conclusion.  Tzaneen  acknowledged  the  salute,  and  then 
Lochien  and  Makets  stepped  forward. 

"Nkosikaas,  Zombode  is  ours!  Labotsibeni  is  dead 
and  the  war  is  won !"  Lochien  cried,  "Even  now  Sebuza 
is  king  in  Zombode  and  throughout  all  Swaziland.  King 
Buno's  son  is  king  and  our  work  is  over!" 

"Lochien,  faithful  induna  and  counsellor,'*  Tzaneen 
replied,  "Is  my  son,  the  king,  wounded  or  hurt  in  any 
way?  And  did  he  carry  himself  in  battle  as  should  the 
son  of  Buno?" 

Lochien's  answer  satisfied  her  and  she  beamed  with 
pride  and  j  oy.  There  were  a  few  more  leading  questions 
and  presently  we  went  into  the  kraal.  It  was  only  then 
that  I  noted  Makets  closely.  He  staggered  as  he  walked 
and  I  was  startled  to  see  that  he  was  bleeding  from 
several  wounds  in  the  breast.  I  turned  to  help  him, 
but  he  would  have  none  of  it. 

"Nkoos,  I  am  a  warrior!  I  am  an  induna  and  a  leader 
of  warriors !"  he  boasted  in  a  tired  voice.  "These  wounds 
are  nothing!    To-day  I  have  won  seven  scars  of  honor. 

359 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Seven  of  Labotsibeni's  warriors,  great  fighting  men, 
fell  before  me!" 

He  seemed  much  pleased  with  himself  and  had  not 
fully  recovered  from  his  slaughter  madness.  I  knew  that 
he  could  take  care  of  himself  and  paid  no  more  atten- 
tion to  him.  There  were  important  things  to  be  learned. 
I  wanted  to  know  how  Labotsibeni  came  to  be  killed 
and  what  had  happened  to  Lomwazi. 

Tzaneen  was  almost  beside  herself  with  curiosity  and 
began  questioning  Lochien  as  soon  as  we  were  seated. 

"How  was  Labotsibeni  killed?"  was  her  first  question. 

"Nkosakaas,  I  cannot  answer  that,"  Lochien  replied, 
and  I  could  see  that  he  was  telling  the  truth.  "Strict 
orders  were  given  that  she  be  spared,  so  that  the  gov- 
ernment might  not  hold  King  Sebuza  to  account  for  her 
death.  Sebuza  told  the  indunas  that  the  man  who 
harmed  the  old  queen  would  die!  All  our  warriors 
understood  this. 

"When  we  came  to  her  hut,  however,  she  was  dead. 
I  think  that  some  enemy  in  her  own  kraal  stabbed  her 
when  we  broke  in  and  they  all  fled.  Perhaps  some 
woman  she  had  offended  did  it.  Labotsibeni  was  help- 
less and  could  be  easily  killed." 

It  seemed  a  pitiful  thing  to  me  that  Labotsibeni,  after 
ruling  Swaziland  for  so  many  years,  should  be  murdered 
in  this  way.  I  was  thinking  about  her  when  Tzaneen 
asked  about  Lomwazi. 

"Lomwazi  is  a  prisoner,  Nkosikaas,"  Lochien  an- 
swered.    "He  will  be  killed  after  he  has  officially  sur- 

360 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

rendered  the  throne.  These  are  King  Sebuza's  orders, 
and  Lomwazi  is  under  guard  in  Zombode  until  the 
coronation  celebration  is  held." 

That  settled  the  cunning  Lomwazi.  Clever  as  he  was 
reputed  to  be,  he  had  not  been  been  able  to  escape  his 
fate.  It  later  transpired  that  it  was  Lomwazi  who  had 
sent  the  false  alarm  that  Lebombo  was  to  be  attacked. 
Evidently  he  thought  that  the  impis  of  the  enemy  would 
be  kept  on  guard  there  and  that  he  would  be  able  to  in- 
crease his  army  by  delaying  the  attack  he  knew  would 
be  made  on  Zombode.  However,  his  word  reached 
Tzaneen  too  late,  as  the  impis  were  already  on  the  war- 
path. 

Lochien  next  gave  us  an  account  of  the  taking  of 
Zombode.  The  old  queen's  opinion  concerning  the  fight- 
ing quality  of  her  impis  was  not  far  wrong.  It  seems 
there  had  been  several  hundred  single  combats,  after 
the  custom  of  the  Swazi  warriors,  and  finally  a  rush 
upon  the  kraal.  Of  course  Lochien  exaggerated  a  great 
deal — no  kaffir  can  tell  the  exact  truth — but  there  must 
have  been  between  four  and  five  hundred  killed.  There 
were  practically  no  wounded;  there  never  are  when 
Swazis  fight.  As  soon  as  a  warrior  wounds  his  enemy 
so  that  he  is  unable  to  fight  back,  he  kills  him. 

It  developed  that  there  had  been  an  attempt  to  bum 
the  kraals,  but  Sebuza  stopped  it.  It  was  he,  also,  who 
intervened  to  save  Lomwazi's  life  after  that  good  fighter 
had  killed  several  of  Sebuza's  own  men.  Lomwazi  was 
not  spared,  however,  through  any  mistaken  sense  of 

361 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

mercy;  he  was  kept  to  be  executed  as  part  of  the  coro- 
nation ceremonies.  When  I  heard  this  I  made  up  my 
mind  to  save  him  if  I  could.  If  there  was  no  other  way, 
I  would  buy  his  life.  This  is  often  done,  and  it  might 
be  possible  in  Lomwazi's  case. 

Lochien  gave  us  many  other  details  of  the  fight,  re- 
marking that  there  were  many  women  in  Zombode  and 
much  loot.  Sebuza  was  to  decide  on  the  disposition  of 
all  enemy  property  and  would  have  his  hands  full  for 
some  time  to  come.  When  Lochien  had  finished  Queen 
Tzaneen  praised  him  highly  for  his  loyalty  and  general- 
ship, and,  realizing  that  the  storj^  was  told,  we  went  back 
to  our  camp.  I  felt  thankful  that  the  war  was  over  so 
quickly,  and  said  as  much  to  Oom  Tuys.  He  quickly 
undeceived  me. 

"Maybe  it  is  over  in  Zombode  and  Lebombo,"  he  said, 
"but  it  is  only  beginning  in  the  outlying  districts.  It 
won't  be  over  for  some  time,  perhaps  for  months.  The 
news  of  this  war  will  not  reach  lots  of  places  for  days, 
and  when  it  does  the  factions  will  clash.  Wherever  there 
are  any  indunas  or  warriors  who  are  loyal  to  Labotsi- 
beni,  there  will  be  killing.  It  will  be  bad  killing,  too,  - 
mostly  murders  done  at  night.  It  takes  a  long  time  to 
end  a  war  in  Swaziland ;  that 's  one  reason  why  the  gov- 
ernment is  so  set  against  it.  By  the  way,  I  wonder  what 
His  Majesty's  Royal  High  Commissioner  for  Swaziland 
thinks  of  things  now?" 

This  idea  had  occurred  to  me  several  times,  but  I 
always  put  it  away  because  I  had  a  feeling  that  the  Com- 

362 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

missioner  would  place  much  of  the  blame  for  the  war 
on  my  shoulders.  Tuys  prediction  about  war  continuing 
proved  only  too  true.  For  weeks  after  the  fall  of  Zom- 
bode  there  were  killings  in  the  neighboring  districts. 
The  only  battle  of  any  importance  took  place  at  Stegea, 
the  kraal  of  Umzulek.  Needless  to  say,  the  forces  of 
that  much-married  potentate  were  victorious.  Of  course 
many  of  these  killings  were  due  to  personal  feuds,  the 
war  being  only  an  excuse  for  them.  It  is  safe  to  say 
that  Swaziland  was  in  a  ferment  for  some  time  after 
Sebuza  siezed  the  throne,  and  this  came  to  the  notice 
of  the  authorities  in  JSIbabane  and  Johannesburg. 

The  following  daj'^  we  went  to  Zombode.  Word  had 
come  that  the  body  of  the  old  queen  was  to  be  burned  on 
the  sacrificial  pyre  and  we  wanted  to  witness  the  cere- 
mony. 

There  was  not  much  to  it.  The  burning  took  place 
shortly  after  dark  and  L'Tunga  arranged  the  ceremony. 
During  the  day  we  saw  the  huge  pjTC  of  dry  wood  on 
which  the  body  was  to  be  laid  and  the  witch-doctors  were 
still  adding  to  it  late  in  the  afternoon. 

Soon  after  sunset  the  impis  of  the  king  and  his  mother 
gathered  about  the  great  pile,  which  had  been  built  up 
in  a  regular  pattern.  We  were  with  Lochien  and  Vila- 
kazi  and  were  beginning  to  get  bored  when  there  came 
a  commotion  and  King  Sebuza  arrived  with  his  body- 
guard. There  were  a  number  of  fires  near  the  kraals 
and  these  were  beginning  to  light  up  the  darkness. 

After  standing  about  a  little  longer  it  was  dark 

363 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

enough  to  suit  Sebuza  and  he  sent  one  of  his  indunas 
away  in  the  direction  of  Labotsibeni's  brick-walled  hut. 
Shortly  after  there  arose  the  cry  "Make  way!  Make 
way!"  and  I  saw  the  warriors  draw  back  and  leave  a 
lane  to  the  pyre. 

A  moment  later  six  witch-doctors  arrived,  two  and 
two,  bearing  a  rude  stretcher  on  their  shoulders.  On 
this  was  a  large  bundle  roughly  resembling  a  body.  It 
was  the  remains  of  Queen  Labotsibeni,  the  most  extra- 
ordinary native  ruler  South  Africa  ever  knew. 

L'Tunga  was  waiting  at  the  pyre  and  directed  the 
witch-doctors  how  to  place  the  body  on  its  summit. 
When  this  was  done,  he  stepped  back  and  moved  to  the 
nearby  fire,  where  he  picked  up  a  flaming  brand  in  each 
hand.  These  he  raised  above  his  head  with  wide  sweep 
and  held  them  steady  for  a  moment.  Then  swiftly  he 
brought  the  torches  down  and  the  warriors  gave  the 
royal  salute — ^the  last  tribute  to  the  murdered  queen  I 
This  salute  was  repeated  three  times,  and  then  L'Tunga, 
assisted  by  the  other  witch-doctors,  lighted  the  funeral 
pyre.  The  wood  was  dry  and  burned  fiercely,  and  soon 
the  leaping  flames  met  over  the  body  of  the  queen. 

That  was  the  last  of  Labotsibeni. 

Next  day  we  tried  to  have  a  talk  with  Sebuza,  with 
the  idea  of  finding  out  how  soon  he  planned  to  be  offi- 
cially installed  as  king.  This  was  very  important  to 
me,  since  his  coronation  would  mean  the  attainment  of 
the  object  for  which  I  had  come  to  Swaziland.  I  would 
be  able  to  make  an  historical  record  of  ceremonies  which 

364 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

would  be  valuable  as  a  vivid  page  out  of  the  life  of  old 
South  Africa — the  life  that  is  passing  so  quickly  now 
that  white  men  are  coming  into  the  country  in  such 
numbers. 

Sebuza  sent  word  to  us  that  he  would  see  us  in  Le- 
bombo  in  two  days,  and  we  went  back  there  to  our  camp. 
While  we  were  finishing  lunch  Lochien  came  with  a  re- 
quest from  Queen  Tzaneen  that  we  visit  her.  Thinking 
that  she  was  probably  more  interested  in  a  bottle  of  gin 
than  in  us,  I  gave  Lochien  one  for  her.  He  caught  my 
thought  and  explained  that  the  queen  really  wanted 
to  see  "all  the  white  men." 

"She  has  important  business  to  talk  over  with  you, 
Nkoos,"  he  said,  "and  desires  that  you  come  to  her  at 
once." 

Tuys  thought  it  would  be  a  good  thing  to  do,  since 
we  were  so  near  the  coronation  ceremonies,  so  we  all 
put  on  our  hats  and  followed  Lochien  to  the  royal  kraal. 
There  was  a  noticeable  change  in  manners  there  since 
Sebuza  had  become  king.  Instead  of  the  former  in- 
formality, we  had  to  go  through  the  salute  and  all  the 
other  ritual.  Tzaneen  had  revived  the  formal  glories 
of  old  Labotsibeni  and  I  was  amused  to  see  how  she  en- 
joyed being  kowtowed  to.  She  had  at  least  fifteen 
maids-in-waiting  about  her  and  had  set  up  quite  a  court. 
Even  Lochien  was  on  his  best  behavior  and  went  through 
the  ceremony  of  presenting  us  to  her  with  a  neat  little 
speech  in  which  he  made  it  appear  that  we  had  come  as 
suppliants  for  her  favor.    I  caught  Tuys's  eye  while  this 

365 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

was  going  on  and  there  was  an  amused  twinkle  in  it. 
The  wise  old  burgher  had  seen  savages  of  all  sorts  and 
nothing  they  did  astonished  him  so  long  as  they  con- 
tinued to  behave  like  grown-up  children. 

When  we  were  finally  seated  Tzaneen  explained  the 
"important  business."  After  we  heard  it  we  realized 
that  Lochien  had  spoken  truly. 

"Mzaan  Bakoor,  'Mlung  'Emantzi  Eenui,  and  Ma- 
kofa,"  she  said,  addressing  me,  Sugden,  and  Crespinell 
by  our  native  names,  "y^^  have  seen  a  queen  die  and  a 
king  made  in  Swaziland.  You  know  much  about  how 
these  things  are  done.  You  know  many  things  about 
the  war  that  Labotsibini  made  against  me  and  of  which 
you  were  a  part,  for  did  you  not  carry  out  the  demon- 
stration that  led  to  the  killing?" 

I  attempted  to  take  her  up  on  this  statement,  but 
Tuys  signaled  me  to  keep  quiet.  Nevertheless,  I  main- 
tain that  she  was  not  just  in  blaming  the  first  killings 
on  us. 

"Now  you  know  that  the  government  has  set  its  face 
against  my  son.  King  Sebuza,"  she  went  on,  "and  it 
may  be  some  time  before  it  will  recognize  him  as  the 
rightful  king.  When  the  news  reaches  Mbabane  that 
Sebuza  has  seized  the  throne,  the  white  chief  there,  who 
belongs  to  the  government,  will  ask  many  questions. 
He  will  want  to  know  much! 

"When  you  go  to  Mbabane,  or  to  your  own  home, 
the  government  will  question  you  and  ask  how  Labotsi- 
beni  came  to  be  killed.    Perhaps  the  government  will 

366 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

want  the  truth,  when  a  little  lie  would  work  much  less 
harm  here  in  Swaziland.    Is  it  not  so?" 

I  began  to  see  what  she  was  driving  at.  Tzaneen 
was  afraid  that  the  government  would  get  after  Sebuza 
for  taking  the  throne  by  force  and  she  wished  to  make 
sure  that  we  would  protect  her  son  as  much  as  possible. 
She  had  been  talking  at  me,  but  now  she  turned  to 
Tuys. 

"Nkoos  Tuys,  you  are  the  brother  of  Buno,"  she 
said,  "and  Buno  gave  his  people  into  your  care.  You 
are  the  white  king  of  my  country  and  you  will  protect 
us  from  the  government  if  need  be.  I  need  not  ask 
you  to  be  careful  when  they  question  you.  I  only  ask 
that  you  advise  Mzaan  Bakoor  and  his  men  how  to 
avoid  rousing  the  government  against  us." 

"Nkosikaas,  I  will  answer  for  Mzaan  Bakoor  and  his 
men  with  my  life,"  Tuys  answered.  "Mzaan  Bakoor  is 
blood  of  my  blood  and  inherits  my  trust  as  guardian  of 
the  Swazis  when  I  die.    Buno  decreed  this  as  he  died." 

Tzaneen  nodded  her  approval  at  this  brave  speech 
of  Oom  Tuys  and  then  was  thoughtful  for  a  time.  I 
could  see  that  she  was  still  doubtful  and  that  the  fear 
of  the  long,  slow,  but  dreadfully  sure  arm  of  the  govern- 
ment was  still  upon  her.  Presently  she  raised  her  head 
and  looked  at  me,  and  her  eyes  flashed  a  sudden  resolve. 

"There  is  one  way  that  I  can  be  certain  of  your 
loyalty,  Mzaan  Bakoor,"  she  said,  without  mincing 
words,  "and  that  is  by  making  you  an  induna  of  the 
Swazis.    You  and  your  two  men  shall  become  indunas 

367 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

in  the  royal  impi.  Never  before  has  a  white  man  been 
worthy  to  be  taken  into  a  Swazi  impi,  and  you  shall  be 
the  first!" 

This  was  a  decided  shock.  I  had  never  thought  I 
would  like  to  be  a  Swazi,  even  if  I  were  an  induna.  In 
fact,  I  would  not  have  enjoyed  being  King  of  Swazi- 
land, with  all  the  power  that  Buno  had.  But  here  we 
were  face  to  face  with  the  proposition  of  being  forced 
to  become  indunas  in  the  crack  impi  of  the  new  King  of 
Swaziland.  Even  the  distinction  of  being  the  first  white 
men  to  be  admitted  did  not  lessen  the  blow. 

I  was  at  a  loss  what  to  say  to  Tzaneen.  She  had 
the  air  of  having  conferred  the  highest  possible  honor 
on  us,  but  I  sat  there  speechless,  wondering  how  to 
avoid  becoming  a  Boer- Swazi.  It  was  good  old  reliable 
Tuys  who  saved  the  situation,  but  ruined  us. 

"Nkosikaas,  you  have  done  Mzaan  Bakoor  and  his 
men  the  greatest  honor,"  he  said,  "and  they  will  gladly 
become  indunas  of  your  impi.  They  will  go  to  their 
homes  proud  to  say  that  they  are  your  indunas !" 

Then  the  wily  old  Boer  poured  out  a  lot  more  flat- 
tery which  Tzaneen  swallowed  without  blinking  an  eye. 
While  he  talked  I  thought  the  matter  over.  It  looked 
like  a  hopeless  case;  I  could  see  no  way  out  of  it.  If 
we  wished  to  see  Sebuza  crowned,  we  would  have  to  go 
through  with  this  induna  business. 

"Oom  Tuys  has  spoken  for  us,"  I  told  Tzaneen,  after 
Tuys  had  finished  complimenting  her.  "For  the  rest  of 
our  lives  we  shall  be  proud  to  say  that  we  are  indunas 

368 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

of  your  impi.  Our  children  will  also  be  proud  of  it 
and  will  tell  their  children!" 

Tzaneen  appreciated  this,  too,  and  liked  it.  Then  I 
asked  a  question  that  was  close  to  my  heart. 

"When  is  it  planned  to  hold  the  formal  ceremonies 
of  making  Sebuza  king  of  Swaziland?" 

"In  about  fourteen  days,"  she  answered.  "The  cele- 
bration of  his  coronation  will  take  place  at  the  same 
time  that  you  are  made  indunas.  You  will  return  from 
the  mountains  after  ten  days,  and  by  that  time  all  the 
people  of  Swaziland  will  have  come  to  Lebombo  and 
there  will  be  the  greatest  celebration  any  one  has  ever 
seen." 

So  this  had  all  been  planned,  I  thought,  and  then  it 
came  over  me  with  a  jolt  that  we  must  go  into  exile  in 
the  mountains  for  a  "puclandi,"  or  space  of  ten  days, 
before  we  would  be  sufficiently  sanctified  to  become  in- 
dunas. 

"L'Tunga  will  take  charge  of  you  until  you  return 
from  the  mountains,"  the  queen  added,  "and  he  will  pre- 
pare you  for  your  indunaship." 

This  ended  our  chat,  and  we  went  back  to  camp  most 
unhappy  in  mind.  Sugden  was  furious  and  so  was  I, 
but  Crespinell  regarded  it  as  rather  a  joke.  Tuys  de- 
clared we  would  have  to  go  through  with  it  and  had 
better  make  the  best  of  it.  That  night  he  cheered  us  up 
by  telling  us  how  we  would  have  to  live,  what  we  would 
have  to  eat,  and  what  L'Tunga  would  do  to  us.  I 
think  the  old  fellow  had  more  fun  chaffing  us  about  our 

369 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

becoming  "white  Swazis"  than  he  had  had  in  a  long 
time.  Some  of  his  remarks  were  pointed,  and  Sugden 
promised  him  that  he  would  set  his  impi  after  him 
just  as  soon  as  he  became  a  "sanctified  induna." 


370 


CHAPTER  XXI 

Our  sanctification  in  exile— Hardships  in  the  hills — Oom  Tuys  saves  Lom- 
wazi's  life — The  celebration — Lorawazi  formally  surrenders  the  throne — 
Sebuza  acknowledged  as  king — We  are  inducted  into  the  royal  impi — 
Mbabane  sends  for  information — We  escape  through  Portuguese  terri- 
tory to  America. 

THERE  was  even  less  humor  about  the  induna 
business  next  morning.  Bright  and  early 
L'Tunga  arrived  at  our  camp  with  a  solemn  expression 
on  his  face  and  a  corps  of  assistant  witch-doctors.  We 
had  eaten  the  largest  breakfast  possible,  because  Tuys 
had  advised  us  to  eat  one  more  white  man's  meal  "be- 
fore you  go  into  the  mountains  and  fight  the  goats  for 
their  food."  I  remember  thinking  that  there  were  times 
when  the  rough  and  ready  humor  of  this  burgher  was 
in  very  bad  taste. 

L'Tunga  had  little  to  say.  He  told  us  to  follow  him, 
and  we  three  white  men  meekly  did  so.  On  either  side 
of  us  was  our  escort  of  witch-doctors,  and  I  had  all 
the  sensations  of  being  marched  to  my  execution.  We 
were  taken  to  L'Tunga's  kraal  and  into  a  large  hut, 
where  we  were  ordered  to  take  off  all  our  clothes.  I 
thought  Sugden  would  explode,  but  he  shut  his  mouth 
and  took  it  out  in  murderous  looks.  Crespinell,  being 
a  modest  soul,  was  unhappy  about  removing  his  gar- 
ments, but  there  was  nothing  to  do  except  to  follow 
instructions. 

371 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

I  tried  to  cheer  Sugden  by  remarking  in  English  to 
him  that  he  would  soon  be  an  induna  if  his  luck  held. 
His  only  reply  was,  "Induna?  Hell!"  Crespinell  was 
too  far  gone  for  words.  When  we  had  stripped  L'Tunga 
presented  each  of  us  with  a  full  Swazi  warrior's  cos- 
tume, telling  us  to  put  this  on.  Thankful  for  anything 
to  cover  our  nakedness,  we  did  so  as  quickly  as  we 
could.  Then  our  witch-doctor  friend  ordered  us  to 
come  out  of  the  hut,  and  we  did.  We  certainly  were 
the  handsomest  white  Swazis  that  ever  carried  a  shield ! 

Tuys  was  hanging  around  the  kraal,  and  the  twinkle 
in  his  eyes  when  he  saw  us  marched  out  to  start  on  our 
long  walk  to  the  hills  was  worth  seeing.  We  did  not 
appreciate  it,  however,  for  the  hot  earth  hurt  our  feet. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  detail  our  experiences  dur- 
ing this  exile.  I  am  sure  no  white  men  ever  suffered 
more  than  we  did.  We  were  bitten  by  insects,  scratched 
by  a  million  thorns,  scorched  by  the  sun  during  the  day 
and  nearly  frozen  at  night,  and  our  feet  were  in  con- 
stant agony.  In  spite  of  L'Tunga's  tutoring,  we  could 
not  find  enough  food,  so  that  we  nearly  starved. 

There  was  only  one  bright  spot.  Some  young  women 
traveling  across  the  mountains  ran  across  us  and  gave 
us  food.  Except  for  this  aid,  I  feel  sure  we  would 
never  have  survived  the  ordeal.  After  the  first  day 
or  two  the  only  fun  we  got  out  of  it  was  enjoyment  of 
each  other's  misery.  In  addition  to  our  actual  physical 
suffering,  we  were  in  constant  dread  lest  we  be  bitten 

372 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

by  some  poisonous  snake,  of  which  there  are  many  in 
these  hills. 

But  such  suffering  must  have  an  end.  On  the  ap- 
pointed morning  L'Tunga  and  his  assistants  arrived 
and  escorted  us  back  to  Lebombo.  How  we  ever  got 
there  I  cannot  understand.  Our  feet  were  practically 
useless,  and  we  must  have  walked  on  sheer  nerve.  No 
sooner  did  we  arrive  at  Lebombo  than  we  were  ushered 
into  the  presence  of  the  queen. 

We  were  a  sorry  looking  group.  Each  had  a  ten 
days'  growth  of  beard  and  a  famished  look  in  his  eyes. 
Tzaneen  was  very  cordial  and  assured  us  that  we  had 
come  through  our  sanctification  with  flying  colors.  She 
congratulated  us  on  our  hardihood  and  said  we  would 
make  brave  indunas.  When  I  interpreted  to  Sugden 
later  the  "brave  indunas"  part  of  her  speech,  I  thought 
he  would  have  a  fit. 

"If  I  get  through  this  alive,"  he  exclaimed,  "I  '11  never 
see  a  Pullman  porter  without  wanting  to  kill  him!  I 
don't  care  how  soon  the  British  send  a  flying  column  and 
wipe  out  all  the  Swazis .  I  hope  they  start  with  L'Tunga, 
and  make  Tzaneen  and  Sebuza  close  seconds!" 

Tzaneen  had  been  right  when  she  told  us  that  all 
Swaziland  would  come  to  see  Sebuza  made  king.  AU 
the  kraals  at  Lebombo  were  crowded,  and  there  were 
thousands  of  people  camped  out  around  the  village. 
Tuys  estimated  that  there  must  have  been  nearly  thirty 
thousand  Swazis  there,  a  good  half  of  whom  were  war- 
riors.    During  our  exile  in  the  hills  word  had  gone 

373 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

throughout  the  land  that  the  celebration  would  take 
place  at  the  end  of  ten  days,  and  the  people  had  flocked 
in  from  all  directions. 

The  celebration  began  the  day  after  our  return  from 
the  hills.  Tuys  had  learned  that  the  first  event  would 
be  the  official  turning  over  of  the  throne  by  Lomwazi, 
who  had  been  brought  from  Lebombo  for  that  purpose. 
Following  this,  there  would  be  a  giant  reception  to 
Sebuza,  during  which  all  the  warriors  would  acknowl- 
edge him  as  king. 

I  was  curious  about  Lomwazi.  If  Sebuza  ran  true  to 
heredity,  his  life  was  not  worth  much. 

**What  will  happen  to  Lomwazi  when  he  has  turned 
over  the  kingdom  to  Sebuza?"  I  asked  Tuys.  "Sebuza 
was  very  anxious  to  kill  him  a  little  while  ago.  Is 
Lomwazi  going  to  be  executed  as  part  of  the  festivities?" 

"While  you  were  away  I  made  up  my  mind  to  try 
and  save  Lomwazi's  life,"  Tuys  said;  "not  from  any 
love  for  him,  but  because  he  is  the  ablest  Swazi  I  know 
and  may  be  useful  to  me  some  day.  I  have  worked  on 
Tzaneen  and  Sebuza  until  they  have  agreed  to  spare 
his  life.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  frightened  them  into  it. 
I  told  them  that  the  news  of  Lomwazi's  death  would 
surely  bring  the  government  rifles  into  Swaziland  and 
that  the  first  targets  they  would  seek  would  be  Sebuza 
and  his  mother.  It  took  a  long  time,  but  they  finally 
agreed  to  turn  Lomwazi  over  to  me.  I  am  to  be  re- 
sponsible for  him  and  see  that  he  makes  no  trouble  for 
Sebuza  or  his  mother.    Lomwazi  does  not  know  about 

374 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

this,  and  he  won't  until  after  he  has  turned  over  the 
throne." 

When  the  ceremonies  started  Sehuza  stood  on  a  small 
mound  of  the  httle  plain  in  front  of  the  kraals,  with 
his  "cabinet"  behind  him.  L'Tunga  was  there  and  all 
the  principal  indunas,  among  whom  were  Lochien,  Vila- 
kazi,  and  a  number  of  those  who  had  taken  part  in  the 
capture  of  Zombode.  Grouped  in  a  tremendous  semi- 
circle about  them  were  thousands  of  the  Swazi  people. 
They  were  waiting  patiently  for  the  affair  to  begin. 

We  white  men  remained  a  httle  to  one  side,  and  soon 
we  saw  a  small  body  of  men  coming  from  the  kraals. 
When  they  drew  closer  we  could  discern  Lomwazi  in 
their  midst.  He  was  not  bound,  but  carried  no  arms 
and  wore  no  ornaments.  All  the  men  guarding  him 
were  indunas.  They  marched  their  prisoner  in  front 
of  Sebuza,  and  we  came  nearer  so  that  we  might  hear. 

"Lomwazi,  brother  of  Buno  and  traitor  to  his  son," 
Sebuza  began.  "You  have  lost  in  the  war  you  started 
against  me  and  now  your  life  is  mine.  Labotsibeni  is 
dead  and  I  have  sent  for  you  to  surrender  the  throne 
to  me  so  that  the  people  of  Swaziland  may  know  who 
is  king.     Do  you  give  up  the  throne?" 

Lomwazi  was  game.  He  knew  that  he  faced  death, 
but  he  never  dropped  his  eyes  or  lowered  his  head.  He 
looked  straight  at  Sebuza  and  squared  his  shoulders. 

"Now  that  Queen  Labotsibeni  has  been  murdered,  the 
son  of  Buno  is  the  rightful  heir  to  the  throne,"  he  re- 

375 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

plied  in  his  deep  voice.  "Nkoos,  you  are  that  son  and 
the  throne  is  yours  I" 

That  was  all  he  would  say,  and  I  saw  Sebuza  catch 
Tuys's  eye.  He  seemed  to  change  his  mind  suddenly, 
and  then  spoke  to  Lomwazi  again. 

"Your  life  is  mine,"  he  said,  with  a  certain  amount  of 
petty  triumph,  "and  I  can  do  with  it  as  I  please.  I 
have  given  it  to  Oom  Tuys,  the  White  King  of  Swazi- 
land, the  friend  of  my  father,  who  will  do  with  you  as 
he  desires." 

Tuys  then  stepped  forward  and  motioned  the  indunas 
to  move  away  from  Lomwazi.  The  savage  regarded 
him  fixedly  for  a  moment,  and  Tuys  stretched  out  his 
hand.  Lomwazi  was  stunned  by  the  change  in  his  for- 
tunes, but  a  second  later  gripped  the  hand  and  followed 
Tuys  as  he  retreated  into  the  group  behind  the  mound 
on  which  Sebuza  stood. 

Next  the  warriors  formed  into  impis  and,  led  by 
their  indunas  in  all  their  savage  trappings,  began  march- 
ing past  the  young  king.  Each  impi  would  halt  in  front 
of  him  and  give  the  royal  salute,  thus  acknowledging  him 
as  their  ruler.  It  seemed  to  me  that  there  was  an  end- 
less procession  of  these  savages,  all  of  them  fully  cos- 
tumed and  armed  for  battle. 

When  this  march  past  was  over  and  Sebuza  had  thus 
been  officially  recognized  as  king  by  the  Swazis,  the  royal 
impi  was  sent  for  and  lined  up  in  front  of  the  "review- 
ing stand."  We  were  in  the  background,  waiting  at 
the  appointed  place,  and  L'Tunga  came  and  beckoned 

376 


AIR.  CRESPINELL  AT  HOME  AMONG  HIS  BLACK  BHETHREX 


DR.  SUGDEN,  PRINCE  LOMWAZI,  AND  DR.  O'NEIL 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

us  to  follow  him.  I  remember  how  my  feet  still  hurt  as 
we  swung  in  behind  him,  carrying  our  shields  like  real 
warriors  and  trying  to  step  out  as  though  we  were  kin 
to  these  savages. 

We  halted  in  front  of  Sebuza  and  there  followed  a 
moment's  silence.  I  could  see  the  thousands  upon  thou- 
sands of  Swazis  watching  us,  and  it  gave  me  a  peculiar, 
isolated  feeling.  Sugden  and  Crespinell  kept  their  eyes 
on  Sebuza,  and  I  knew  exactly  what  the  doctor  was 
thinking.  If  his  wishes  had  come  true,  Sebuza  would 
have  choked  right  there. 

Then  Sebuza  made  a  speech. 

"White  indunas  of  the  royal  impi,"  he  said,  address- 
ing us  in  a  loud,  clear  voice.  "You  have  proved  worthy 
to  be  blood  brothers  of  the  warriors  who  guard  the  king. 
You  have  been  sanctified  and  have  borne  the  ordeal 
without  flinching.  From  now  on  you  are  Swazis  and 
entitled  to  all  the  privileges  of  my  chosen  indunas." 

There  was  a  good  deal  more,  for  Sebuza  liked  to  hear 
himself  talk.  As  he  rambled  on  I  heard  Sugden  make 
a  remark  out  of  the  corner  of  his  mouth  to  Crespinell, 
which  brought  a  blush  to  that  young  induna's  tanned 
cheek. 

"He  's  going  to  tell  how  many  wives  we  can  have  in 
a  minute,"  he  whispered.    "I  hope  you  get  nice  fat  ones !" 

When  Sebuza  finally  finished,  he  motioned  to  me  to 
come  forward.  I  did  so  and  stood  just  below  him  on 
the  mound.  An  induna  handed  him  a  plumed  head- 
dress and  he  placed  it  on  my  head.    It  was  much  as 

377 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

though  he  were  conferring  a  decoration.  I  stepped  back, 
and  Sugden  took  my  place  and  received  his  headdress. 
Crespinell  followed,  and  then  we  turned  and  faced  the 
royal  impi.  Sebuza  gave  a  sign  and  the  impi  saluted 
us.  Then  we  stepped  into  its  ranks  and  we  all  saluted 
the  king. 

That  was  the  end  of  the  ceremony  that  made  us  the 
only  white  men  to  hold  commissions  in  the  royal  impi 
of  Swaziland.  After  leaving  the  "parade  ground"  we 
were  only  too  thankful  to  hobble  back  to  camp  and  min- 
ister to  our  numerous  scratches,  cuts,  and  abrasions. 
But  we  had  not  yet  come  to  the  end  of  our  torture! 
Din,  however,  practically  saved  our  lives  by  rubbing 
some  concoction  he  made  on  our  abused  feet.  It  eased 
them  wonderfully  and  made  it  possible  for  us  to  get 
through  the  rest  of  that  day. 

The  same  afternoon  the  real  celebration  started. 
Every  one  had  been  drinking  tswala,  some  of  which 
runs  as  high  as  twelve  per  cent,  in  alcohol,  and  this 
seemed  to  add  to  their  desire  to  dance.  The  warriors 
danced  before  the  royal  kraal,  and  we  had  to  perform 
with  our  impi.  In  spite  of  Din's  treatment,  it  was 
agony.  The  ground  was  hard  and  bhstering  hot.  Sug- 
den's  remark  that  "the  hobs  of  hell  have  nothing  on 
this"  was  fully  justified. 

But  we  went  through  with  it  somehow.  In  addi- 
tion, we  were  able  to  get  many  pictures  of  the  dancing, 
and  Crespinell  even  took  some  of  Sugden  and  myself 
doing  our  best  to  be  true  Swazi  indunas. 

378 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

The  dancing  continued  all  that  afternoon  and  late  into 
the  night.  As  soon  as  it  became  dark  hundreds  of  great 
fires  were  lighted,  and  it  was  a  weird  sight  to  see  these 
thousands  of  savages  leaping  and  prancing  in  their 
light. 

The  celebration  lasted  for  three  full  days  and  nights 
and  on  the  morning  of  the  fourth  the  visiting  tribesmen 
set  off  for  their  homes.  There  was  a  general  exodus,  so 
that  by  nightfall  Lebombo  had  returned  to  its  wonted 
calm.  When  I  saw  how  empty  it  was,  I  realized  that 
Tuys's  estimate  of  the  number  of  people  who  attended 
the  celebration  was  very  conservative. 

We  were  resting  and  recuperating  after  the  ordeal  of 
becoming  "white  Swazis"  when  Lochien  came  in  haste 
to  see  us.  We  were  about  packed  up  and  expected  to 
leave  Lebombo  within  a  few  days.  Lochien  was 
troubled  and  wanted  our  advice. 

"A  messenger  has  come  from  Mbabane,"  he  said. 
"He  says  that  the  government  will  not  allow  Sebuza 
to  be  king.  The  government  chief  has  heard  that  Labotsi- 
beni  is  dead  and  wants  to  know  how  she  died.  Tzaneen 
wishes  you  would  tell  her  what  to  say  to  the  messenger." 

This  was  unpleasant  news.  I  had  not  believed  that 
the  government  would  interfere  when  it  heard  that 
Sebuza  had  actually  been  made  king  and  that  all  Swazi- 
land was  rejoicing  over  it.  There  was  only  one  thing 
to  tell  the  messenger. 

"Tell  Tzaneen  to  speak  the  truth  to  the  messenger," 
I  directed.    "Tell  her  to  say  that  she  does  not  know  how 

379 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

Labotsibeni  was  killed.  If  the  messenger  asks  about 
the  war,  tell  the  queen  to  explain  how  Labotsibeni's 
warriors  attacked  her  indunas  and  killed  them,  and  that 
she  made  war  only  to  protect  her  people." 

Lochien  took  these  instructions  to  Tzaneen,  but  the 
event  gave  me  food  for  serious  thought.  If  the  govern- 
ment was  sending  messengers  to  ask  questions,  it  would 
soon  send  white  investigators — and  then  would  come 
trouble. 

That  night  I  called  on  the  queen  and  informed  her  that 
I  intended  leaving  Swaziland  as  quickly  as  possible. 
She  seemed  much  upset  at  this  and  besought  me  to  stay 
for  several  moons  more.  I  gathered  that  she  was  afraid 
to  face  the  authorities  alone.  I  pointed  out  to  her  that 
my  return  to  my  own  world  was  imperative,  and  finally 
she  agreed  to  let  me  go. 

"Nkoos,  you  will  always  remember  that  you  are  a 
Swazi  induna,"  she  said,  in  parting.  "Now  you  are  one 
of  my  people  and  must  always  remain  loyal  to  me!" 

I  promised.  I  shall  always  remember  her  last  words. 
She  drew  herself  up  to  her  full  height  and  threw  out  her 
arms  in  an  eloquent  gesture. 

"When  you  go,  Mzaan  Bakoor,  all  the  sunshine  goes 
out  of  my  life!"  she  said,  and  then  turned  to  enter  her 
hut. 

Sunrise  next  morning  saw  us  trekking  for  Delagoa 
Bay.  Oom  Tuys  brought  Lomwazi  with  us,  and  it 
was  understood  that  he  would  return  to  his  kraal,  far 

380 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

removed  from  Lebombo,  as  soon  as  it  was  safe  for  him 
to  re-enter  Swaziland. 

Ten  days  later  we  reached  Delagoa  Bay,  where  we 
were  lucky  enough  to  find  a  steamer  on  which  I  engaged 
passage  for  our  party  to  New  York. 


THE  END 


381 


AUTHOR  LECTURER 

EXPLORER 


OWEN  ROWE  O'NEIL 


1 10  WEST  39th  street 
NEW  YORK  CITY 


Fitz  Roy  3015 


Fitz  Roy  4125 


^ 


SEE  THE  EXCLUSIVE  MOTION  PIC- 
TURE RECORD  OF 


THE  STRANGEST  CORONATION  CERE- 
MONIES EVER  KNOWN  TO  MANKIND. 

THE  ROYAL  FAMILY  OF  SWAZILAND. 

THE  WITCH  DOCTORS  COMMUNING 
WITH  THE  SUN  GOD. 

THE  KILLING  OF  THE  SACRED  BULL 

THE  BARBARIC  INDUCTION  OF  THE 
WHITE  ADVENTURERS  INTO  THE 
ROYAL  IMPI  (REGIMENT)  OF  SWAZI- 
LAND. 

THE  WEIRD  TRADITIONS  AND  CUS- 
TOMS OF  THE  ROYAL  RACE  OF  AFRICA. 

A  startling  picturization  of  the  secrets  of  the  dark 
continent,  verbally  accompanied  by  the  adventurous 
young  Boer  who  lived  himself  a  life-time  among  the 
savage  tribes  of  Africa. 


THRILLING  HUMOROUS 

EDUCATIONAL 


COMMENT  OF  THE  PRESS 


"...  to  say  the  least,  this  story  is  thriUing.  The  author 
writes  with  a  certain  naivete  that  is  deHcious." 

— Saturday  Night,  Toronto. 

"A  vivid  recital  of  personal  adventures  that  holds  attention," 

— New  York  Herald. 

•••ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND.'"  by  Owen 
Rowe  O'Neil,  is  heralded  by  its  pubHshers,  The  Century  Com- 
pany, as  •A  true  story  that  reads  Hke  a  fairy  tale,'  and  such  it 
certainly  proves  to  be.  It  is  rarely  that  such  a  volume  is  placed  in 
the  hands  of  readers.  From  the  beginning  one  is  struck  with  the 
simple  vigor  of  the  writer's  style,  and  the  unaffected  way  in 
which  he  interestingly  recounts  his  experiences  .  .  .  saw 
sights  that  could  never  be  forgotten.  The  temptation  is  to 
repeat  some  of  these,  but  events  follow  so  rapidly  in  this  fascinat- 
ing volume  that  if  one  could  give  way  to  inclination  it  would 
result  in  reprinting  the  greater  part  of  the  story." 

— Jackson  D.  Haag,  Detroit  (Sunday)  A^en>s. 

"A  story  loud  w'th  the  beat  of  savage  drums  and  the  thump 
of  savage  feet,  written  by' a  strategist  with  convincing  simolicity." 

— A^en;  York  Sunday  World. 

"...  extraordinary  adventures  described  with  cap- 
tivating power." — Boston  Globe. 

••  .  .  .  without  a  doubt  the  most  startling  book  of 
adventure  that  has  issued  from  the  press  in  many  years." 

— Sunday  Times,  Johannesburg,  S.  A. 


ADVENTURES  IN  SWAZILAND 

By  OWEN  ROWE  O'NEIL 


A  true  story  that  reads  like  a  fairy  tale.  The 
thrilling,  picturesque  narrative  of  an  educated  Boer, 
son  of  the  former  Minister  of  Finance  in  the  cabinet 
of  the  late  Oom  Paul  Kruger,  whose  family  helped  to 
found  the  Orange  Free  State  and  as  pioneers  survived 
the  diseases,  hardships  and  bloody  onslaughts  of  the 
savage  tribes  of  South  Africa.  His  nurse  was  a  Mapor 
woman  and  his  playmates  were  the  primitive  little 
Kaffir  boys.  Dr.  O'Neil  wore  his  first  pair  of  civilized 
trousers  at  the  age  of  nine  years.  He  grew  up  in 
close  proximity  to  the  savage  Swazis,  a  nation  of 
300,000  people  who,  under  the  leadership  of  old  King 
Buno,  were  a  constant  menace  to  the  surrounding 
Boer  villages.  Oom  Paul  paid  Buno  2,000  pounds  or 
its  equivalent  in  gin  to  keep  the  peace  and  young 
O'Neil  often  accompanied  his  uncle  when  he  went  to 
make  payment  at  each  new  moon.  King  Buno  died 
of  a  snake-bite  and  his  sightless  mother,  over  100 
years  old,  ruled  over  the  Swazis  until  the  crown 
prince,  Sebuza,  came  of  age. 

Meanwhile  Dr.  O'Neil  had  grown  to  manhood,  been 
educated  «t  Edinburgh  University  and  Harvard,  and 
had  returned  to  practice  medicine  among  his  own 
people  in  Africa.  He  always  kept  in  touch  with  the 
natives,  however,  visiting  them  each  year  in  the  wilder- 
ness. In  1918  when  he  heard  of  the  approaching  coro- 
nation of  the  crown  prince  he  determined  to  be  present 
at  the  ceremony.  How  the  old  queen  refused  to  give 
up  her  throne,  how  a  civil  war  was  precipitated,  how 
the  author  with  a  companion  became  the  only  white 
men  ever  initiated  into  the  Swazi  tribe,  and  how  Sebuza 
won  a  great  victory  and  assumed  his  rightful  kingship 
over  Swaziland  completes  a  story  that  for  imaginative 
quality  and  vivid  power  rivals  anything  out  of  the 
Arabian  Nights. 

The  book  is  profusely  illustrated  with  remarkable 
photographs  taken  by  Dr.  O'Neil  while  in  Swaziland. 

8vo.,  381  pages 
Illustrated  from  photographs 
At  all  Bookstores  Published  by 

THE  CENTURY  CO. 

353  Fourth  Avenue  New  York  City 


<'^ 


^*>^> 


^y 


121256 


yC  SOUTHE.R.N  BEGiONAL 


A     000  715  447     9 


